Surge
by Amathist Fwirrel
Summary: Eco Surges, insane meglomainacs galore, demons, precursors and Sages. The world's spinning into chaos again, but Jaks got his own problems. Can he save the world, or is he to be a bystander, watching armogeddon unfold before his eyes?
1. Stampede!

**_Hi. I decided to re-do this chapter. because it was AWFUL. It probably still is. LOL. anyway fro all you new readers, enjoy. For all my old ones, DONT KILL ME! chapter 8 IS coming, its halfway done! _**

**_Enjoy!_**

* * *

Two candles illuminated the battered building known as the Naughty Osstle. The bar's patron, a three foot rodent, adjusted his leather head-gear in a shattered mirror. All around the room, people sat on the damaged floor, some pulling ragged blankets around their shoulders. Tess, another rodent and the waitress of the pub, carried drinks and rations to the survivors. An old woman conforted a young child, explaining Daxter picked up another tray, holding mugs filled with piping hot apple cider, and took it to his friend who was huddled in a corner.

"Jak. Jaakkkk?"

"Hmmm?" Cerulean blue eyes flicked open.

"Drink, ya not lookin' too 'ot there." The Osstle winced as he saw the scars on his friends fingertips as Jak retrieved the mug.

"Cheer up, you've just fought the gods – and _Won!_"

"I… Dax-" The hero was cut off by a bedraggled man.

"huh," he huffed, "Why the hell should we live with _you_? You're useless now, we don't need or want you. You were vicious piece of scum before – but we needed you. Now you're just scum. I mean, where the hell were you when this" he gestured to the destruction around him "when this happened? Hiding back at Sparagus? And then you have the nerve – the nerve- to trot back here, solve our problems, and expect people to hero-worship you!" He spat at Jak. "You came too late. Too late to save us."

"Shut the _hell _up" Snarled Daxter jumping in front of his friend. "Just shut the fuck up, Donavann. You don't know the half of it."

"Oh _really_" Sneered Don. "Why don't you tell us then, rat?"

"Alright, ugly, I will. It all actually starts in the wasteland…"

* * *

The large vehicle skidded to a halt on top of a dune awkwardly, it's engine idling and began sliding down the other side. Jak looked behind him coolly and kicked at the accelerator. The huge wheels gripped suddenly, sending the bulky dune buggy ricocheting down the steep slope. Behind him, the herd of colossal desert metal heads chasing him crested the hill and thundered down it, screaming and snarling in a berserk rage.

Yanking hard on the wheel, Jak sent the heavily armoured buggy into a sharp handbrake turn, swinging it between a bolder and a copse of hardy pine trees. Speeding up, he tore through the steadily narrowing mountain pass. The engine squealed in protest as sand and grit sprayed everywhere. The reckless driver gritted his teeth as the vehicle launched itself from a rocky plateau, into the deepening canyon below.

Jak threw his weight to one side as a tight corner forced the car on two wheels, leaving a tire imprint on the clay chasm walls. Behind him the stream of pursuers thundered down, followed by the rank stench of rotting flesh. Jak was now relying purely on his hearing - looking behind him was impossible at his currant speed.

Five seconds later, Jak hit the trigger for the auto targeting machine gun mounted behind his head. It spluttered to life firing round after round at the stampede, showering the suicidal driver with shining cartridges. The lead metal head took most of the rounds in its face, turning its skull into a bloody mush. It fell with an earth-shattering thud, its two-story corpse blocked the ravine, resulting in a hilarious 'pile-up' effect. Well, it would have been funny, if the remaining behemoths weren't lumbering over their comrade to rip Jak apart.

Grinning lopsidedly, Jak rammed the accelerator down once more. His bullets claimed the rest of the herd apart from two, who hung back, watching him. He hit the brakes and turned around.

Idiot.

Within those few precious seconds Jak reached several conclusions. The most important of which was about the two canons perched jauntily on the leathery backs of the metal-heads, sparking as gaseous eco built up inside the organic weapons.

Acting more on reflex than on any coherent thought, he slammed his palms together, as two purple comets smashed into the rubble-strewn ravine walls above him.

Everything stopped.

The boulders hovered in mid-air.

The Metal heads froze.

The world tinted itself a dark blue.

And through this all strode Light Jak, eyes glowing with eco. He stepped from the danger zone and calmly strode over to the metal heads. Without stopping he stooped down and pulled up two good-sized rocks, and after weighing them in his hands, took off. Literally.

With a powerful sweep of his dusty moth wings he landed on the back of the metal head, and slammed one rock into the leviathan's cannon. He did the same with the other. Admiring his work, he found to his surprise that he still had plenty of eco left. Feeling confused he paused for a second then decided to use this to his advantage.

He flapped his glowing wings once more and pulled up beside the boulders. With a few well-placed kicks and punches he sent the rocks flying (very) slowly towards the behemoths frozen under his spell.

* * *

In the city, Samos sat mediating in Haven forest.

He felt it first, the tremor in the earth that shook him into the core, caused the leaves to shiver on their branches and huge flocks of birds to take flight,

Wrenching the COMM-U unit out of his pocket, he activated it. A few seconds later, Torn picked up.

"Yeah, Samos? What the he-…what do you want?"

"Torn, Eco Surge, shut off the cities eco-grid NOW."

The commander cursed, swinging around to his computer and pulling up various files. Vin, in his holographic glory, urged him on given commands and hyperventilating. "Okay." Said Torn, purposely ignoring the ex-elf screaming in fear. "Gonna take thirty minutes. How long we got?"

"Five minutes or less, get you're best man on it." From the other end of the line, a synthetic voice howled.

"…Jaks in Sparagus." Hissed Torn, his voice lowered.

"Jak…by the precursors! Torn contact him, and warn him."

"Why? What type of surge is-" Torns question was cut off by Samos' COMM-U exploding, raining down shards on the old man, and slashing his face cruelly.

* * *

In one of the many power plants in Haven, the pistons, the gears, the filters all began to emit a low hum. Throughout the building, elves pricked their ears and several mechanics pulled open the maintenance hatches. One bright individual took one look at the machinery and yelled "SURGE!" - smacking a large button on his right labelled 'emergency stop'. But it was too little, too late. The purple tar that churned and burned in the pipes started fizzing, bubbling violently, as elves legged it, evacuating the building in droves. In the bowels of the power station gears started spinning faster and faster, until one flew off its shaft, spinning into another machine, crippling it.

The Power station exploded, incinerating all those inside. On the skyline, other factories and reactors could be located by looking the mushroom cloud of debris and eco. The sun disappeared as the sky was daubed with smoke.

People screamed and ran as the industrial section of the city was engulfed in a giant, colourful fireball, sending shrapnel thudding into the bodies of the unfortunate. Blue Eco sparked and hissed from vehicles, and liquid copper dripped from the one-time wires of machinery. The air was full of the stench of burning metal and charred meat of people and animals alike, the very air distorting as magical energy pulsed through it.

It was technological Armageddon.

* * *

Time sped up.

The metal heads screamed as half a ton of rubble suddenly decided to change direction and defy most laws of mass and speed. Light Jak watched this with something akin to pity, or disinterest.

He flinched as he felt pain in his fingertips, like someone had dragged a nail file across them. He pulled his hands from behind his back and saw claws. Dark blue, curved, nine-inch claws. Morbid fascination held him in place until his legs gave out underneath him, but he didn't fall, instead he hung in mid air, like a broken puppet on tangled strings.

And the convulsed as all the eco he had absorbed, used, and stored inside his frame sang in his veins. Sparks of red, yellow, blue, green, white and purple whirled round his body, as both white eco and dark eco strove to transform him. Tough, ridged antelope horns stabbed through his skull, only to have them twisted by the white eco and shatter like crystal. Then stab through his skull…Light Jak's wings and Dark Jak's claws followed the same pattern, punching through his skin and then retreating, again and again, until he was bleeding from the gaping wounds left, his skin having been given little time to heal. Time convulsed around him, slowing down, speeding up or stopping all together. His vision slid from blurred and hazy, to pin-point accuracy.

He threw his head back and screamed. Magical pulses span around in a blur, stinging him like glowing hornets

* * *

"What the hell's that?" Boomed Sig, leaning out of the throne room's large windows.

The pillar of multicoloured light had only seconds ago shot from the dunes, blinding him temporarily. Sparagus had not felt the effects of the Surge badly, as they mostly used wind power to generate the little electricity they needed. Only the few desert vehicles and few new COMM-U units had exploded.

"PECKER!" Roared Sig.

"Raaak! What iz it, my liege?" The monkey parrot hybrid squawked, flying down from a corner where he had been hiding.

"See that?" Sig asked, gesturing out the window. "What the HELL is it?"

"Ahh, my lord it appears to be…light? Raak."

"Well, go out there and find out what's causing it."

"Uh…you see, I'm uh allergic to sand-Raakk…and I – uh - can't go into…"

"Pecker?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

* * *

Daxter curled into a ball, twitching under the table as the eco-powered lights fizzled away to nothing. Tess' comforting words and hasty prayers drowned the screams of zoomers spinning out of control out as she hugged her boyfriend. She was pretty sure that they were in danger, but was glad that the dark eco had stopped ravaging his tiny frame. She knew what was happening, but the experts had said over and over again that there wasn't enough eco left to cause a Surge, supposedly caused by vast amounts of eco rising to the surface. More to the point, Surges were usually only one type of eco playing silly buggers with machines and people, but all the different types of eco were going hay-wire simultaneously…the bubbling jars of eco left stacked on the shelves for Jak and Samos proved that.

A molten blob of metal crashed through the roof, setting the alcohol that dripped from shattered bottles alight. Tess screamed, pulling Daxter away from the flames, away from it all. She buried her face in his fur. Hiding her eyes from the body burning alongside the zoomers remains, she willed it all to end.

"Ello, Tessy-babe. Yew okay down there?" Jinx peered under the battered table, fag-butt clenched between his teeth. "Only I 'eard screamin' an' I figgured yew wou'dn't mind some 'elp." The addict sniggered, picking up the couple. "Didun't evun know Daxxie could go tha' 'igh."

* * *

An hour later, Samos floated into the underground hurriedly. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

Torn glared at him. "Just fine Samos," he rasped sarcastically, "the cities been reduced to rubble, I can't contact my men and Daxter just went into an epileptic fit. Yup, everything is good."

Samos harrumphed. "Is the rat okay?"

"Unfortunately."

"Jak?" Asked the Sage anxiously.

"Heard nothing."

The green sage stomped over to Torn and peered over his shoulder, who was pushing piles of paper around his desk, pinning some up, throwing others away. They were mostly hand-written reports on the damage.

"The city?"

"The industrial section was vaporised. The city's crippled without it. The rest of Haven is mostly on fire or buried under rubble. The Port has sprung a leak and the water levels here "-he jabbed at the map-"and there" He waved at another section of the city detailed on a map behind him. "Are rising. Which is impossible – should be impossible, but it is happening. I've seen it. And I don't think we can stop it."


	2. Enter The Monkaw!

_**Chapter Two, up an' runnin'!**_

_**Rah, almost forgot.**_

_**To all those legal sods who have nothing better to do than trawl through fan-fiction, looking for missing disclaimers: 'I. Do. Not. Own.'**_

_**Nothing**_

_**Nada**_

_**Zilch.**_

**_Apart from this plot and any characters I introduce/modify (because I enjoy playing god :D)_**

_**So don't sue.**_

_**To My Reviewers:**_

_**yes for 1 2**_

_**DON'T DIE ON ME!…heh, but we can go insane together. Lets see if this chapter helps any. Good news is that school finishes in three days, so I'll have the new chapter updated sooner…just as I figure what the HELL is going to happen next. Apparently stuff like that is important, lol!**_

_**Dar Kash Elin:**_

_**Unwritten rule of Jak fan-fiction:**_

Eco Eternal Screwdom 

_**So yeah, you're on the right track there.**_

_**Its at times like these I feel really, really sorry for anybody who wanders into my plot.**_

_**Lorana-the-Somoner:**_

_**Thank you! .**_

_**SeventhSpanishAngel12:**_

_**Glad you think so! Will do!**_

_**babyblues15:**_

_**I can defiantly say there will be more chapters…like this one here! Thanx for the support!**_

_**Dunce: Heh, thanks, but actually another one of you noticed that I had misspelled**_

'_**Pecker' oh well.**_

Anyway, on with tha' show!

"DOWN, you, Stupid Mutt, Down! RAARRK!"

It had seemed a good idea at the time. Really.

The logic was simple. Sig had told the monkaw to find out what that light was, and go find Jak.

So Pecker could either: a) go look at the scary, powerful, dangerous, unexplored pillar of light on his own, with a pretty high change of running into the path of two-story metal heads or b) Find Jak, then go look at the pillar of light.

Figuring that Jak was pretty safe distance from the light and Jak was stronger than him, Pecker went with choice b).

But to find Jak was difficult, as his tracker exploded in the Surge. And so had all the other tracking equipment. So the only choice left to him…

"RARRRKKK! You ugly, ugly mutt. Touch me with those teeth and I'll…"

…Use Jak's Crocadog, Zanna. After defating the Dark Makers, Jak had bought a pet croca-dog. After living a year in the Wasteland, Jak's loyal pet had grown to amazing proportions, its small, squat puppy body balencing itself better, muzzle and legs lengthening, and generally growing. Now, it stood at around four foot in height, making it look like a slate blue wolf/collie mongrel with a hell of a lot more teeth. And Spines. And claws. And it was relishing being let out. (Jak kept it indoors or with him at all times, since it tended to give people a scare).

It was also relishing chasing the monkaw around, snapping at its tail. Pecker had for his part had given up on trying to get the crocadog to track Jak, and so was letting it run loose in the wasteland.

"RAARRKKK! Any they say YOU haven't stopped growing!"

Pecker flapped harder and rose higher into the air, away from the crocadog. Letting loose a torrent of words that would have made a wastelander blush, he was then startled to see the dumb animal set off at a quick trot towards the friggin' light.

It was a long journey. A journey spent by Pecker cussing at the oblivious Croca-mutt, and trying to stop her. Which meant forfeiting his purple tail-feathers, but he did try.

The hybrid entertained the notion of just flying back to Sparagus without Zanna for a while, then realised that Jak would find out. So he carried on following the croca-dog.

So Zanna carried on, navy blue muzzel markings flashing I the harsh sunlight following her master's scent. She scrambled over the dunes, and later, round metal-head corpses, while Pecker flapped reluctantly behind.

And then they found Jak.

Twitching and spaziming, he hung in mid-air, his own blood painted on the rocky walls and thick on the ground, turning the sands into crimson mud.

He didn't have a lot of blood left.

"Okay," said pecker in his thick, Spanish accent, "I will file this under not good. Raaakk! You! Mutt! You go to Sig! You go tell him…"

Pecker paused as his stupidity hit him.

"What am I saying? A mutt? Talking? Raakk! I have been around that eidiot rat too long, his stupid has rubbed off on me…"

"Raakk, fine I will go, in to the dangerous desert, and get help. See? Everybody relies on me!"

With a few powerful flaps pecker was gone, skimming over the golden dunes, his yellow belly occasionally clipping the peaks, leaving Zanna to watch over her master, pacing as the ethral beings fought over him.

She lay her head between her paws, watching. One green eye wathing over Jak protectivly, the other, grey-ringed eye watching for the ever present danger.

It took half an hour to get Jak back to Sparagus.

The medics tore his clothes off, as they filled a bath with icy water from the throne room. Decency could wait- for the moment; priority lay in cooling the Channeler's body temperature down. Clad in his boxers, Jak was dumped in the water.

The surrounding paramedics busied themselves, trying to ignore the six glowing scars on his chest. Occasionally, the channeler would spasm, and a coloured spark would leap from his body, causing the men and women to duck. It was becoming a reflex.

"What happened ta Chilli Pepper?" enquired Sig, eyeing the old man in front of him.

The doctor in question looked up briefly from scribbling on his notebook.

"Mmm, so this is Damas' son eh? Interesting…I suppose he must of inherited some of It from his mother…Nice woman, wouldn't want to cross her on a dark street, but then again-"

Sig poked him in the chest. "Yeah, he's Damas' son. What. Happened?" He snapped.

"Mmm, Eco surge, his father had the same problem, so did his mother-"

Sig coughed, and glared.

"Ah, haha, as a Eco Mage, the man reacted badly to the Surge, and his body over heated, when the different types of eco fought for control. I have no idea how he survived, we could practically fry an egg off his chest, though my father did always say that Mar's decen-"

"You said his mother had given him 'It'. Sig cut across quickly, "What 'It'?"

"His resilience to the eco. Should of killed him. Her Morphing ability carried through too apparently."

"Daxter!" Rasped Torn, "Get you're sparkin' ass OFF my map"

"Make me, Rusty-locks!" Snapped Daxter.

"Don't tempt me, RAT." Snarled Torn, stroking his gun handle longingly.

Daxter, seeing this, jumped off the table.

After an awkward pause, Daxter spoke up again.

"I heard Log-a-head talking to you about Jak. Why?"

"None of your business."

"Listen Captain Laryngitis, this is my best buddy here. It's my business."

"Fine. He may be dead. Happy?"

"Ha-Ha, Fuck you. Seriously, what's up with Jak?"

"I am Serious."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me, rat."

For once, Daxter had no witty reply. He looked at his feet, and shivered. His large ears flopped down, slightly obscuring his eyes, where tears started to build.

"no…" He whispered.

Torn in that split second felt a burning regret, for the first time in years. That had been cruel, but also he felt anger. Someone should have told the Ottsel, he reasoned. But deep down he knew the anger was directed at himself. Hesitating, Torn opened his mouth…

"Torn? Torn! This is Sig, pick up Cherry!"

"Sig? How did you get my number?" asked Torn, pulling out his communicator from his pocket. He pressed a flashing button, and a silver hologram of the wastelander's face appeared.

"Got it off Jak."

"You mean he's alive?" Squeaked Daxter, scrabbling up onto Torn's arm.

"Just about. He's a tough little Chilli Pepper, but I need Samos. That kids real sick." Boomed the hologram.

"I'll get him!" yelped Daxter, bolting up the stairs to the Shadows room.

Havens sewers. Dark, dank and dangerous. Rabid rattit's scurried two and fro, hopping over puddles of corrosive sludge and tar, some even sometimes riding down the sewer-river on driftwood, floating machinery, and corpses tossed there by the KG. It was not called the Styx for nothing.

In some places, the metal in the pipes had corroded away completely, and the toxic waste flowing into channels of its own carving, or travelling along old precursor ruins, their bronze carvings covered by black, stinking waste.

Slowly a black, oily film covered the sordid surface of the water. It travelled upstream, wending its way along the sub-terrainian passageways, until it came under the palace itself.

Slowly at first, then picking up speed it whirlpooled, faster and faster, forming a column and it began to drift sideways, towards the side of the sewer-tunnel and the stone path that ran along side it. As it moved the spinning column changed shape. It spilt at the bottom. A thin, flapping film unravelled behind it. Parts widened and thinned. By the time it had reached the walkway, it was elfin-shaped.

Gol, Sage of Dark Eco put his foot on the bottom of the ladder.

And so it began.

_**OH GOD! THE CLICHÉ'S! ahem eh…yah. Sorry this thing took so long to write. Writers block and real life kept on catchin up on me…bastards. Along with an evil computer that deleted my friggin work. A couple of things may be causing you to hate me. So allow me to explain.**_

_**Firstly, Torn's communicator. I reckoned that Torn would have more than one Comm. Unit, and its only when machinery is on that the Surge affects things. Jak had seizures because he had eco residues in his body from long exposure.**_

_**Secondly: RattitRat/Rabbit hybrid. Think long eared, large footed rats, brown or black in colour, with claws.**_

_**K,k? Read and review peoples. Flames will be used to burn my report cards. See ya!**_


	3. Breaking and Entering

_**Punches the air Freedom! Freeeeee! Sugar!**_

…_**Oh, hi.**_

_**Yeah, I just got outta school for a whole two months (WHOOOTTTT!) so I'm hyper. Very,very hyper. The coke (the drink, the drink! Jeez!) and the junk food may have contributed to the hyper ness as well………**_

_**FFFFFFFFRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!**_

_**Sanity is for the weak-minded!**_

_**To My Reviewers (people actually read my stuff…?)**_

_**Yes 1 for 2: **_

_**EMILY:- evil, evil, evil, (five hours later)….evil, EVIL! blinks waiiit…I'm on holiday now. Heh. **_

_**My Plans: Sleep. Surf on W.W.W. draw meercats (don't ask, my friend loves 'em). Procrastinate. Do art H/w. Play on PS2. Write LOTS. Read fanfics. Read web-comics.**_

_**Rinse and repeat.**_

_**And scince I am the revenge type, it's a good thing you stopped where you were. Mwahahahahahah**_

_**pets white cat**_

_**Gets mauled by white cat**_

…_**Ow.**_

_**Babyblues15: Wheeee! Will do!**_

_**Jaklover123: Aw thanks, the idea just pooped into my head (and now it won't get out…dumb storylines…over-reactive imaginations are a bitch, I tell ya)**_

_**The Ugly Solider: **_

_**Uhhh….shite. Righti-ho, lets get started or rather, edit…it….aw nuts. **_

_**You make good points…especially about the croca-dog thing. (I would of thought it would have lived to Jak TPL, scince dogs last about 14-15 years, so I thought it didn't go back in time. JEEZ!)**_

_**Anyway for those who can't be bothered to read the edited version (I wouldn't, personally) here is the nessisary info.**_

_**The croca-dog, Zanna, in this story is NOT young Jaks one. Young Jaks croca-dog went back in time. Jak got a new crocadog. (Female! There aren't enough girls in the Jak games). Two different croca-dogs. Zanna is slate blue with navy blue markings, and a light grey patch over one eye.**_

_**No, Torn ISN'T working for the underground, but the building is still there (pretty derelict, but still) and has the only comm. unit capable in the city of reaching Sparagus that wasn't turned on in the Surges, so their using that. It is also the only place that didn't go BANG, again because nothing was turned on there.**_

_**White/Light eco was a mix-up that I didn't catch when I read over it. The same goes for the Damas/Mar stuff.**_

_**The citizens of Sparagus and Haven knew that his surname was Mar, and that he was the son of Damas, but they don't know that Jak IS Mar, and he doesn't plan on telling them. **_

_**It would be like George Bush telling the world he was Jesus…Oh, wait, the world already thinks G. W. Bush is insane. **_

_**Eh….you get the idea.**_

_**BTW the word is ensue, not insure. **_

…_**God I get bitchy sometimes. ANYWAY….**_

_**NOW ON WITH THE DAMNED FIC!**_

The black film rose from the deep under-ground spring, pushing upwards. It rose, higher and higher, along with the freezing cold spring water.

It squirted out of a fountain, high above the ground and landed in a pool. There it drifted to the surface, and began to whirlpool lazily, the sunlight from the massive tinted windows that enclosed the pool playing across it, and causing an aurora to dance across it. Just as it was about to form-

-it was sucked down another pipe. If the being that was trying to form actually had a mouth, it would have screamed in fustratation. And then in pain. It is _not _fun trying to create a solid form three times too big for the pipe it is being sucked down.

Surprisingly, being sucked down a pipe is not a walk in the park either.

The being landed into another pool. This one was much smaller, and shallower. It didn't matter though; it would big enough to morph properly. The black film swirled on the surface, then flashed an off-white colour, and a humanoid form took shape.

Maia opened her eyes-

And bit back a shriek when she found herself lying on top of a semi-naked man. **_(A/N: I'm going to hell for this…)_** Actually, a semi-naked drowning man, as her entire weight was pushing him underwater. She pulled herself out of the bathtub, and pulled the man out of the water by his rather garish, florescent yellow hair.

Jak had florescent hair…

She looked at him with renewed interest. He seemed to have the same facial structure as the brat had, but this man was more grizzled, older and tougher. And the mute freak would have died at least 400 years ago…

As her eyes travelled down to his chest she saw that he was one of the Blessed – he channelled dark eco! However…he had also been cursed, with the searing, unholy light eco.

"One of your descendents, perhaps Jak?" she smirked, "And an Eco Mage…I'll be back for you-"

A loud snore interrupted her monolog. Turning, she saw a male nurse sleeping in a chair not far from the tub. In his arms he cradled a cheap plastic clipboard. In bold, angular symbols it read:

**Name: Jak Beville Ha'kann Mar **(Does your namesake make you proud Jak? You dead, mute bastard.)

Age: 18 

**Status: Fever, Eco-Induced Coma Due To Surge.**

**Treatment: No Contact to Green Eco. Exposure to cold water to reduce fever, anti-biotic …**

What followed was a list of seemingly random chemical names and numbers, listing painkillers, and healing drugs. Next came the charts, of more random figures. But wait…here was an interesting passage…

**Patient has had frequent contact with coloured eco for most of his life. **

**At 14 years of age he came in contact with Aphotic Eco (dark eco), variant 32, in the Baron's Dark Warrior program amongst other, many un-known substances, regularly for two years, resulting in the creation of an Alter ego, dubbed Dark Jak. Side effects include:**

**tempory madness **

**Destructive tendencies**

**Memory loss**

**Loss of channelling abilities**

**Tempory invincibility. **

'**Super human' feats**

**Few have survived his attacks when he is in this state.**

**At 18 years he came into contact with Lucent Eco (light eco) variant unknown. Details are unknown, but it resulted in a second, balancing alter ego, dubbed Light Jak.**

**Light Jak seems to be a purely defensive persona. Side effects include:**

**Memory loss**

**Passive tendencies**

'**Super human' feats**

**He has never attacked civilians, in this form and appears to prefer not to fight.**

'Hmmm…'thought Maia 'he could be useful…'

She looked over at the man. "I'll be back," she whispered, and strode out the white plastered room, dripping water as she walked.

She wondered how her brother was doing, infiltrating the palace.

Gol gently tapped at the sewer coverings, his face twisted in anger.

They had been bolted down with a sturdy metal, iron bars wielded across the outside and then had been covered with a type of concrete, if the grey rock poking through the gaps was any indication. Which made a quiet entrance impossible.

Which suited Gol just fine.

Tracing a pattern on the rusted metal covering, he tensed is leg muscles, as sparks marked where once his fingers had run. The acidic stench of dark eco wafted delicately around the sewers, and the substance in question began to dissolve the blackened metal. Gol climbed back down the ladder-

As the bindings and the concrete barring his way exploded outwards, vaporised. Burning grey dust filled the air, as Gol pulled himself up into the palace basement. Coughing at the amount of dust in the air, Gol pulled his cloak over his face and leaned against a blood-red wall.

Semi-blinded, his sharp ears picked out the sound of voices.

"It came from down there!" said the first voice nervously

"What are you're waiting for? Go check it out!" Said a second, trying to sound commanding. Instead he sounded like a sulky three year old.

"No, you go down there!"

"You!"

"You scared?" A third man joined in

"No, I mean, it could only be a kanga-rat-"

"Or a metal head" Chimed in a fourth, happily.

"-or a metal head so-"

"Or Dark Jak…" Cut in number four again

"Ah -but Jak is in the wasteland so-"

"But is that what he _wants_ you to think, I mean how hard would it be for his to just double-back…?"

"…I hate you." Whimpered the first.

"Off you go then!" Sang number four, happy that _he _wasn't going down there.

Footsteps followed the commotion, stopping and pausing. Gol pushed himself up against the wall and waited. The guard, wearing blue armour walked straight past him.

"All clear! Guys, come see this, looks like an explosion in the sew"-CRACK.

Gol dropped the guard's corpse in disgust, head flopping uselessly on a broken neck and turned his attention to the approaching guards.

Slamming his fist outwards, Gol slapped the first guard aside, sending him flying into the rest of the K.G.'s. He held up a hand, and dark eco slid over the walls, sparking lazily, and an orb of goo formed in the palm of his hand, in response.

The small group of K.G. picked themselves up only to see Gol smile sweetly then clenched his hand downwards crushing the purple slime.

The dark eco that clung to the walls almost seemed to tense, then realised lighting bolts of eco that flew everywhere frying anything organic that it came in contact to and causing machinery to explode.

"Easssssssy", the former Sage hissed, passively staring around the rooms. He slunk over to one of the steaming corpses, and kicked it.

"Daammmnnn." The guards didn't carry maps… 'It seems like I shall have to find the way myself.'

He looked towards the ceiling, and saw there were thick dark pipes running along the walls, containing fresh, drinking water. Water that did not connect to the sewer lines. The only type of water that entered the top floors of the palace.

He picked up a grey coloured piece of shrapnel in on hand, and tested its razor edge on his palm. With the heel of his boot and his bare hands he piled the bloodstained corpses high, one on top of the other. Not caring about the blood congealing under his nails and painting his clothing and flesh, he mounted the bodies and then, with the sharp metallic shard, slashed open the pipe above.

Pure water cascaded through the shiny slits. The dark Sage reached up, sending out tendrils of himself, through the pipelines. He saw in his minds eye how the water routes veined the palace, where to go and what to do.

He liquidised himself and surged up the mini-waterfall, as the now blood-tainted water covered the dead K.G's bodies. Within minutes, the whole room was five foot underwater.

"Good afternoon, Lord Sigen."

Sig spun around in shock. How did she sneak up on him like that?

"I have come today to propose something to you Sigen. Perhaps to warn you-"

"Identify yourself, Intruder." Ashlin snarled, half-drawing her pistol. She could sense him or her, lurking in the shadows of her throne room. Most likely it was just some rookie K.G, but she didn't like to take chances.

"My name is Gol. I am the Dark Sage, and your new Master"

Ashlin noticed that the area was slowly filling with water.

_**DUM-DUM-DUUUMMMMM!**_

_**Agghhhh! The clichés, oh god they burn.**_

_**Read, review and or flame, I like playing with fire.**_


	4. Dark Times

Hey people! Sorry about the wait, but my internet went down for a week or so, and after swearing, kicking the modem and phoning tech support repeatly, it turned out to be faultly wiring.

God, those tech guys hated me.

_**Anyway, to my two wonderful reviewers**_

**_yes for 1 2: _**

**_Emily:_**

**_Yeah, I would LOVE to join your C2. One Question, How? Lol. J/K fan, not really. I like all pairings. Including / especially Slash. But don't count your chickens before their hatched – Jak's sexuality is complicated. As will kinda be (vaguly) hinted at in this chapter. So it could be J/K or it could be completely different. It probably will be actually._**

**_Amathest: _**

**_Lol, is that a good OH-MY-GOD or a bad one?_**

**_babyblues15: _**

**_Actually, Jak's age may come up a couple of times. The way I worked it out was starting from the assumption he was 14 in TPL, which took around 2 months (I dunno, they WERE touring the world, right?) A month later, they use the time-travel thingy and end up in Haven City. When he is sixteen, Daxter busts him out of jail. After a month, they defeat Kor. When he's 17, he gets chucked out of the Haven. After say, two months he meets the precursors. Now MY story takes place 9 months after the game so he's like 18 years, 4 months old. _**

**_DISCLAIMER: If you think I own Jak and co. you are officially on crack. _**

_**ON WITH THE FIC!**_

* * *

A lone figure sat on the temple floor, tracing patterns on the dusty, seamless stonework with see-through fingers. The light blue and pinky-purple streaks in her hair fairly glowed in the torchlight. 

"How much longer do I have to wait?" She asked the statue that stood in the centre of the hall. The bronze statues eyes glowed, one blue the other purple, and spoke.

"**Not long…Mage." **Its booming voice answered. **"The Sages of Darkness have risen, and they are releasing the bane of us all, the one held prisoner. And the healer will rise from the same cage, thus freeing the prison, but dooming humanity in the same instance."**

"Tell me again," she murmered, in a sad, dreamy way, "tell me again why I had to leave. Why every thing started to go wrong."

**"We were doomed from the begging. The fabric of space, time, everything, it was peppered with worm-holes, black holes. They grew so large that the material of exsistane looked like a net. Held together by prayers. Then one of those hallowed threads _snapped_."**

**

* * *

**  
Jinx stood amongst the rubble of what had been a city. Not a particularly wealthy city. Not a particularly beautiful city. Hell, not even a particularly nice city. But it had been a city. And now it was rubble. Or underwater. Or both.

'At least it ain't burnin' anymore…' Thought Jinx miserably, shifting yet another lump of rock, afraid to see what was underneath. The pyromaniac was not, by nature, weak-stomached, but some of the corpses he had found were less like bodies an more like slurry, some much so that it was impossible to tell how many people were dead, let alone identify the corpses.

* * *

**This cosmic…unraveling, it sent shockwaves through the seven dimensions. The first three dimenions: hight, length and bredth distorted slightly. The fourth, Time formed paradoxes, The fifth and sixth dimensions, home to the beings of light and dark were nearly ripped apart. The seventh, the Precursorian dimension suffured greatly."**

**

* * *

**Jinx twisted away when the reek of charred meat reached his nose. Blackened red tar coated the underside of the rock he had just picked up. He threw it down, and hurled.

Torn knew how Jinx felt. He personally thought it would have been easier if they just bulldozed the area…but that would have been immoral, or so he was told. He looked over his shoulder to see Samos floating around, looking for survivors.

"There isn't anybody left Samos. I need you to go to Ashlin, to discuss the damage."

Samos nodded a touch grimly, and then drifted away in the direction to the palace.

Torn turned his eyes back to the scene in front of him. Jinx had straightened up again and was looking around sheepishly. Several other guards and civilians were busy in the noble art of pretending to work. Others were reacting equally badly as Jinx had.

Torn signed, and called for a break.

* * *

"**The Precursors, seeing the damage, created machines powered by Light and Dark Eco to help repair the dimensions. But they were hi-jacked by Dark-Eco beings, and were used against the Precursors, who they blamed for their homes destruction. Thus the _Dark Makers _were born."

* * *

**

Ashlin felt the water swirl round her ankles.

"Every single pipe in the palace is currently being used to flood this room." Gol sneered at he woman. "How long do you think it will take? Or the windows to shatter from the weight of the water…"

Ashlin's eyes narrowed. "Why are you doing this?"

"For my own personal amusement. A demonstration, if you will, of what is to come."

Gol grinned, and gestured at the security cameras humming to themselves in the ceiling corners. "Smile for the cameras."

Ashlin held her gun a little higher, out of the reach of the water that climbed to her waist.

"Bastard."

A loud banging was heard on the other side of the door. Faint yells were heard. Light flashed through cracks in the door jam, as guard fired eco-bolts at the door.

Suddenly the large, ornamental doors exploded inwards, ripped open by large vines. The water rushed out of the room in a mini-tidal wave and dragged Ashlin off her feet in the process.

The two Sages faced each other.

"Good afternoon, Samos. How nice of you to join our little party, however, I'm afraid I sadlycannot stay any longer…I have after all, got your attention now, do I not?"

"Gol? Is that you?" Spluttered the Green Sage

"Correct, old man." Sneered his counterpart.

Behind him, Ashlin picked herself up, mind racing. '_Careful…' _She thought to herself. '_Move at the wrong time and it'll be the last thing I'll do.'_

'_On three, run.'_

'_One.' _

"Last chance Samos…Join us."

"Why?"

"You are powerful, Samos. I want as you on the winning side", Gol's eyes flashed and narrowed, spite entering his voice. "…for once_."_

'_Two.'_

"Do not forget, Gol, I was on the winning side"

"You may have won the battle 500 years ago", The Dark Sage hissed, "But you have not won the war, nor will you, old Man."

"THREE." 

Ashlin sprang forward, sprinting towards the exit. She twisted in mid-stride yanking on the triggers of her handguns. Gol hissed, and summoned a thick shield of dark eco to deflect the shots.

Every time a bullet connected the shield stretched backwards and sprang back. The KG behind Samos raised their guns and also let loose volleys of red lasers. The KG, Ashlin and Samos backed away, and slammed the doors shut. The Green Sage, with a flourish of his fingers barred the doors with strong vines. Other soldiers piled debris against the door.

* * *

**"Without the Dark Ecoia's guidance any Sage of Dark Eco was driven into insanity, and any Sage of Light was blinded without the dark eco dampening its burning glare, as your mother Onin was. And with the balance of eco disrupted, the Surges started, preventing mages from being created willingly. So now only one Mage remains."

* * *

**

Maia, sensing her brother's situation, decided now was a good time to leave. But not without her prize.

She was at that moment, standing in front of Lord Sigen watching his response to her little proclamation. She also noticed that he was slowly reaching for his gun…

She ran her objectives through her mind. She needed that boy in the chamber below. He was crucial to her-_their _plan, and although she hadn't expected to find him so soon, now that she had, and now that her was unable to defend himself (he looked like he could do a hell of a lot of damage, if he had half a mind to), now was a good time to act.

She sighed to herself. Looks like she would have to go down the pipe. _Again_.

* * *

**"****Jak. ****He is destended to be our savior. But ****he is also to be our destroyer. When?…no-one can tell. However I fear that time is now, and there is little we can do about it.

* * *

**

It had been hard to get the man out of the palace. Jak was heavy, and the streets were patrolled with armed men and women just itching for trouble. She had to sneak through back streets, steal a leaper and jump over the sand-proof wall that surrounded Sparagus, but she was out.

And her brother had agreed with her. He was the 'chosen' one. And it was time for the separation that the great precursors and their oracles had foretold. The second birth of Ecoan was coming.

And no one, not even Jak who had defeated them 500 years ago, could stop them.

Gol plunged his claws into Jak's chest and concentrated. Strangely enough there was no blood, in what normally would have been a mortal wound. Jak's eyes unfocused then became glassy, staring up at the Eco sages face. The Sage in question tensed and pulled, drawing out…

A glowing ball of blue light. Its form suddenly solidified, into what looked like a tiny female, half the size of an ossel. Little swirling smooth butterfly wings poked from between his claws. He held his prize before his eyes, and grinned as it came round. He felt her tiny fists beat helplessly at his fingers. Gol allowed a few more moments of this sensation before gesturing at his sister. Maia brought forward a round-bottomed glass jar, and the eco-fae was shoved inside.

"THAT tiny creature holds the power of light, brother? I had always imagined her to be bigger…more powerful…" commented Maia, holding the jar to her eyes. "…More worthy of an opponent…and female too, how…strange."

She looked suspiciously at the man lying on the table.

"Yes, surprising as it is. Her size surprised me as well. The jar will suffice for he time being, but we will have to create a new prison for her."

Maia was still staring at the comatose man.

"Does that mean he's gay?"

"Does it matter? You will have you're fun, my dear sister, if he's willing or not." Gol commented dryly.

"Yes," grinned Maia. "Yes I will."

Gol turned around and thrust his hands once again into Jak's chest. Gol tensed and pulled, drawing out…

A living breathing shadow. Large, oval obsidian eyes blinked sleepily, as Dark was drawn out of his hosts body, His long thin beak, like the Precursorain statues had, clacked uselessly, revealing rows and rows of prehistoric teeth that jutted from his gums at all angles like barbed wire. With a single heave his long snaky body was pulled free and his serpentine bodies scales rasped against the cold hard ground of the lab. And then he came to.

Dark rasped, snarled and launched himself at Gol, sending him stumbling backwards into Maia. The glass jam-jar that Maia had been holding smashed on the floor and out flew Light. Gol snarled and kicked out viciously, sending his snaggle teeth flying. Hissing the eco-creature ducked as the sages wicked claws scythed through the air.

Maia shut her eyes for a nano-second then stamped her foot down, causing purple eco crystals to jump through the dirt floors, cracking the tiles around and buckling them – only to be stopped by Light and her blue, pulsing light shields.

Dark jumped back, and kicked off the wall, trying to tackle Gol, but the Sage thrust his palms out and out floated a stream of eco, wrapping around the shadow being in a black, stinking cling-film substance. Dark strained and struggled, but to no avail.

Light was intelligent, and saw that she could not win. So she ran, dodging Gol and his stinking goo-misslies. Round corners, sparking as she went, wings blurring as she strove to get away.

She finally slowed down when she realised that she was compliantly and utterly lost. But lost was good. If she was lost it would perhaps be harder for the two Sages to find her.

She alighted on a ledge, and looked around the corridor she was in. It was obviously precursor in design, the trademark orangy-bronze metal glinting blue from her light. She traced one of the tough designs with a glowing finger. Judging by the design, the, the place she was in was from the reign of The Ghur family, 12,000 years ago. She read the runes in a half interested manner, and then paused.

_-Click, click, click-_ A pause then, -_Click, click, click, click- _Was that footsteps? Oh, by all things good and pure, please no…

_-click, click, click, click – _Goddess! Is it getting closer? It's hard to tell

_-click, click, CLICK, CLICK- _It's getting closer…closer…

The little fae swung her head left and right, but no obvious hiding place appeared. So she leapt off the ledge and sped off, her wings humming as they slapped the air. Cornering hard, she practically skidded in mid-air as she found herself face to face with a dead end.

_-Click, click, click-_

She looked around the room; savouring what she was sure was her last moments. She saw how the dust coated the floor, how her glow made the carvings glimmer and shine with a blue and white light. Which was odd, seeing as she only glowed blue – her eyes shot upwards. There was no ceiling. Instead, there was a tunnel stretching straight up.

'And there', thought the fae to herself flying straight up, 'is the light at the end of the tunnel.'

* * *


	5. The Summoning

**Hey, bet'cha thought I was dead, huh? God a month! A MONTH! sheesh! Anyway expect the next chapter in a few days, and i'll deal with the reviewers them. Simply because i have maths/physics/art coursework to hand in tomorrow then i have to study for biology. then english coursework. then classive.**

** As an added bonus , i have not one fuggin clue what im suppost to be doing for maths. And the teacher is pathetic. Life, the universe and GCSE's. so much fun.  
**

**On with the fic!**

**

* * *

**

"**It is time." **Thundered the large brass statue that glimmered in the faint light. The Oracle could sense it. And so he called out to those he could telepathically. Perhaps the Future could be changed.

"**You have done as I have asked and hidden youself away."**

In Kras City a man stood. Diagrams littered the floor, whose carpet's colour was impossible to tell. He opened the door and scampered to his all-terrain buggy. Flipping into the seat, he concentrated and without touching a button the whole machine came to life. On the dash-screen a simple map showed the way to Sparagus City.

"**Leaving behind loved ones."**

The Flutter squawked and squeaked as it sped over the plains, kicking mini-dust storms in its wake. A fwirrel howled from the top of an outcrop, then galloped beside the Flut-Flut and Leaper hybrid, escorting it. The rider smiled at their new addition, through tears of sadness and joy.

"**To keep your powers from the Dark Makers."**

With a grunt he lifted the boulder with one hand and put it down, away from the entrance to the mountain-tunnels. He smiled and wandered over to a group of wild leapers. Firmly and gently he led it away and urged it towards the desert beacon.

"**But the balance has been destroyed."**

Samos watched the ground speed past him in the military vehicle. Worry had lodged itself firmly in his features.

"**The Healer free"**

A large amount of guns was concealed in the figures coat. Even more were fixed on the bandolier and several belts half-hidden by the afore mentioned coat. Even by Sparagus' standards –i.e. Guns was a must, and carrying anything short of a bazooka marked you as a pansy- this was a person to avoid on a dark night. Light tonight, for example.

"**And the Demon has awoken."**

Large almond eyes flickered open. All pupil, no iris, apart from a rimming of red around the outside the glassy orb. Its spear-like beak opened and out slid its thick long tongue. It wove round its snaggle-teeth, inspecting them, finishing at the cruel tip that curved down below the upper jaw, and rose from the top to form a smaller horn. Its legs, seemingly too short for its serpentine body, tensed, and lifted its 25ft body off the ground.

It was locked in a small room hewn from a seam of red limestone. It was defiantly a priceless; anyone could see it was from the early precursor age.

Slowly it flicked out his claws, and set to work.. The katana talons sliced through the relifs, destroying the freezes first, the long beaked 'precursors' exploding in seconds and shards. Two statues in a corner were next, limbs flying as a clawful of eco was flung carelessly in their direction. An alter, resting to one side, was speared on his jagged horns and tossed across the room, only to be chased after and melt like ice at the touch of liquid dark eco. Nothing was spared, as stone rained down, the demon tore the walls away, until they were the thickness of paper.

Large almond eyes flicked to the door. Inspected it. All Wood, no metal, apart from the hinges on the rim of the door. It eased open and out slid the dark creature. It wove round the pillars in the corridor, inspecting them, and finished the other end, where two passages waited, one that curved down below, another that rose up.

Dark went down.

The chamber was extravagant, made of black and white marble. Dark made a mental note to destroy it later. Sitting on two thrones encrusted with black and purple gems (or, fake glass jewels), were brother and sister, Gol and Maia.

They seemed unconcerned that the spawn of hell had just wandered into their room.

'Good afternoon. I am Gol and this, is Maia.'

To be honest, that threw the Dark beast. Usually elves were running away screaming around this point. More to the point, how do you respond to _that_?

He contented himself to nodding. He'd seen Jak do it once or twice, it seemed to shut people up.

'We are sages of Dark eco.' Continued Gol. 'We wish to…join forces with you.'

'Help? You? An elf? _I_ hunt alone.'

'We can help you. With our help you could walk around the city and never be seen.'

Dark thought. Although he was, undoubtedly, the strongest beast ever to walk the earth, it didn't make it any more pleasant to be force fed eco-bolts. And that's exactly what would happen if he tried to storm Haven.

'Tell me more.'

Jak shifted slightly in his sleep, the chains chiming with every movement. The sleep was deep and tranquil.

A man strode down the corridor, boots cracking on the stone floor. He looked at Jak for a second. Then carried onwards and upwards, towards Haven.

**Right, so that's a total of five strangers walking around. I'll think I'll leave it for you to work out whose who – later in the chapters we'll see much blood and gore. Much. You have been warned.**

**As a side note, I want your suggestions on Jak's mothers name. She crops up later in the story…**

**If I get no suggestions, I'm calling her Jil. **

**Because I am a very, very sad person…**

**And sadistic.**


	6. Torn the tattered

**Happy birthday to me, happy b-day tooo me! La-la-la-la-la-la-laaaaaaa! La-la-la-laaaaa-laaaaaaaa!… wow, subtle hint there….**

**Anyway, sorry this chapter took so long. The fight scene took ages to work out…**

**Sweet sixteen! And Barcardi! Man, I love dem breezers.**

**Yoko Child Of The Moon**

**Squee! Thanks!**

**LunarSquirrel:**

**They do huh? Oh well.**

**Hmmm…I can't win either way with the croca-dog thing can I? Just pretend its dead….please?**

**Afeenaninganing:**

**Thanx for the inspiration and the ideas. Jaks mother name is STILL undecided, and will be untill she makes an appereance. BTW I know Mars his first name, but it makes more snence (to me) to make it his sentence. **

**Invader Hera:**

**eats sandwich aw, don't cry! Heres another chappie**

**Johnick:**

**hugs thank you! Heh, naw I don't mind being called dude. I call everyone 'mate' and 'man' (even if it's a girl) so nope!**

**MarySueCrudder:**

**Thank you! It seems we share opinons, lol.**

**Mary-Sue Destroyer:**

**Bite me.**

**yes for 1 2:**

**EMILY- I hope this chapter is clearer!**

**AMATHEST- Too true!**

**babyblues15: **

**Thanx 4 the support!**

Dark laughed as he strode through the sensors. He wasn't a lizard anymore, but an elf. However, if you tried to explain what type of elf he was, you would say he was...blurry. And powerful. His form slid from one form to the next, from short and stocky to tall and lanky, in nano-seconds, while seeming to not change at all. Looking at him for too long would give you a migrane.

It thrilled him, walking alongside his prey, choosing who to spare for the time being. His ears prikeled at the sound of voices in the distance.

"How can you lose someone? He was bl…"

Hello, Daxter. Thought Dark, and walked closer to the ottsel, who was perched on Torns shoulder.

Hello prey.

"-dy COMATOSE! He couldn't move if he friggin tried! His back was practically in two pieces! HOW?"

"Shut up Daxter. And for the Fifth time, Get your flea encrusted feet off me."

"And if that wasn't enough," screeched Daxter, ignoring Torn, "Mrs. I-can-take-care-of-myself get her ass kicked by a five-hundred year old hoboe!"

"You're five-hundred years old."

"I, Torn, am a god. And gods do…stuff…"

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, like smiting the unworthy, beening worshipped by beautiful women…"

"-Getting fleas."

"Get- hey! Don't make me smite you!"

"Oh yeah, how do you plan on doin' that?"

"Oh don't…tempt…" Daxter sniffed the air, his ears drooping. "Oh." He said.

"Oh?"

"Good news is I think I found Jak…"

"And?"

"I can only tell 'cos hes the only guy who could have that much dark stuff packed onto him to reek of the stuff." Daxter added.

"And?"

"The air stinks with the goop. Which is NOT GOOD."

"I thought you said 'he couldn't move if he tried'? how dangerous can he be?"

"Very. Think Dark Jak. I suggest we do what everyone else does when Dark comes to play – run like hell. Screaming."

Torn let his eyes rove about. A street, filled with normal looking people. Not a hint of Jak's trade-mark neon hair, glowing wings or katana-claws. He watched as a man turned down a side-street down a side street, followed by a predatory-looking young man.

In the ally, the 'preditory young man' felt his arm snap as Dark Jak caught his hand delving into his pockets. The mugger slid to his knees, gasping in pain.

Torns ears picked up the delicate sound, and slowly edged towards it.

Dark hurriedly put a hand over his victims mouth, stifleing any screaming…he then sifted his grip minuitly, and snapped the boys neak in two. As the corpse slumped forward, a wallet slipped out revealing a photo of the decised and his family.

It was dark in the ally, but Torn carried on regardless. Metal frame work lay tisted and blankened, and blobs of mealted glass decorated the ground like chewing-gum. As Torn eyed the deralict scene, stepping over a used needle, he saw a crystalline crimson tear-drop fall from an exposed girder above their heads. Torn shone his torch up and saw pale fingers laying limp on the metal.

"Why are we here?" Hissed Daxter.

"Because."

"Jak? Jak? Its me Torn-"

"-You're insane! We're dead! What the hell was that for?"

"He going to show either way…"

"He's Going To Disembowel Us!"

"You should listen to the Precursor, Torn." Dark said, while he slid himself casually out from the shadows, no longer elfin.

Torn weighed up his chances. He had his dagger, a few hand-guns and a torch to use against this…thing, and possibly the pole laying on the floor. The monster opposite him had teeth, claws, a size advantage and dark eco running up and down the lengh of his body.

In other words, he was screwed.

Turning to run, he slipped, and landed on his back. He felt the syringe dig into his side, and mentally added HIV to his personal list of 'Things going to kill Torn'. Rolling he saw long black claws scythe where his head had been a second later. Somewhere, the glass bulb in his torch shattered probably from the arcing sparks of Eco, and the light went out. Torn rolled to the side again and ripped the needle from his side as the claws came back, scoring five deep groves in the concrete where he had lain.

Drawing his duel-barrelled Eco revolvers, he fired in the beast's general direction. The ruby shots did noting more than ricocheted off his hide. He snapped his head to the side as vengeful claws ripped through his ear. Throwing himself to one side, he aimed at and obvious weak spot. His crimson shots hit their intended target and Dark screamed as blood and gore spurted from his left eyeball like a grisly faucet. Blinded, hissing in agony his turned to face torn tough nostrils flaring as he caught Torns scent. And charged.

Scrambling backwards Torn unloaded both his clips in his hide then tossed his firearms down and whipped out his curved dirk. He stabbed at the reptile, only to have talons lock against the blade. The two bloody combatants stood, locked, for half a second, before Torn's dagger shattered. In desperation, he stabbed forward with the broken blade. Dark drew his head back for his kill, Torn slammed his foot into the tough beak tip, knocking the beast back. As Dark recovered, Torns hand scrabbled against the cold floor, his finger tips slicing themselves against the sharp metal. Bloody fingers closed around a reassuringly solid object, then propelled it forcefully into the monsters face with a resounding thud against the approaching fanged maw.

Dark, in retaliation, rolled with the blow, bringing his thick blade-tipped tail into play, gouging a trench through several of Torn's vital organs. Weaving his black tongue around a shattered bone white tooth, watching the man before him twitch in agony with his good eye. Bronze scales as large as cobblestones sparked and spat with purple poison as he stalked forward, and bit through Torns wrist, and began lapping greedily at the rivulet of red flowing freely from the wound.

Torn ripped his arm away – but the damage was done. Blood dripped down his arm, then hissed and bubbled as raw Eco shot through his body, effectively paralysing him. Blood slick claws tilted his head back-

Then were knocked away by a glowing blur. Enraged and temporally blinded from the sudden light, the monster lashed out, to be blocked by glowing shields of light. Leaping away from Torn, claws slashing wildly, Dark chased his counter part as she sped out of the ally.

Torn meanwhile lay on his back, clutching at his wrist.

'I think he's gone. Can you stand?' The blur was back, suddenly, hovering above his chest. Torn grunted weakly.

'…Here.' She said, landing on his chest. 'Let me.'

A Torn hissed and arched his back as the light eco surged through his system, feeling like the dark eco was running through his veins again. Panting, he looked at his wrist and saw a fine blue scar where the mortal wound had once been. Through his the hole in his shirt he could see a web of navy blue bleed into normal tan. Raising his hand, he patted his ear, feeling the lumpy scar tissue, which Torn reckoned was deep blue as well.

'Up you get. Please, I don't know how long it will be before he returns.'

Torn nodded shakily, and stood. With a sinking feeling, he realised something.

No Daxter.

'Where is he?' He said looking around.

'Who?' Asked the little creature.

'An osttel-.'

'Oh, Daxter, he's hidden under that-' here she gestured at the rubble- 'as I didn't know if giving him light eco would be wise. He's fine, just unconscious.'

Torn nodded. 'Who are you?' he asked, but then shook head. ' that', he amended 'I have a feeling I won't believe it if you did.'

Light Jak hovered near his face. 'Probably wise.'

Maia slidiled inside the prison cell, eyes on the handsome, shirtless man who lay in her clutches. 'Yeah.' She said smirking, 'you're gay. Just look at that hair!' She giggled, tugging on the locks that had grown back after being lopped off in Sparagus. 'Disgusting colour, by the way, darling, Yellow is sooo not you!' She twirled an albino lock of hair round her finger. 'Now white hair like mine, that's classy. You're hair would look good in a snowy white shade, hmmm?'

Jak moaned, and turned over.

'Hot, but gay.' Maia said. 'Pity.' She stroked his head absently. Them worked her way up his ears. She stared hungrily at Jak, caressing his ear tips…then pulled away sharply. 'Hot, but Jak's blood.' She reminded herself. 'I will not dirty myself by using Jak's kin for my pleasure.' And she left the room.

Jak opened one eye. For once he was glad he had been in the barons prison - he could play dead real good because of it.

Jak thought. That was close.

The mechanical door in Sparagus whirred open as an BE-buggy slalomed into the city, accompanied by the less than welcome parting shots from marauders blazing through the dust cloud behind it. The driver slipped out of the buggy, looking for all the world like he had forgotten to breathe in his…interesting journey through the wasteland. He half listened to the loud curses from the desert prowlers as the twin doors slammed shut behind him.

"Cutting it a bit fine, aren't we Blue-boy?"

The Sage jumped half a foot in the air, eco crackling in shock.

"Then again," the voice continued, "you're the first one here, apart from me. So it looks like we'll be spending some quality time together. An', trust me with this, I use tha word 'quality' in the loosest possible way." The trench coat wearing figure stepped forward from where it was watching.

"I'm the sage of Yellow Eco. I live round these parts."

Blue eyes narrowed. "You…are not- I mean, Precursors, you're a woman!"

The woman laughed. By the lighting the Blue Sage could see he jaundiced features. "This is Sapragus. I can wield eco better than anybody here. Shoot better than anyone too. So I got the job."

They both fell into an uneasy silence.

"The Oracle had been active today-tonight, she muttered almost apoligetically. Nither had any clue why, "its sent its monks out into the desert, looking for temples. Mar knows why."

"Really?" asked the other sage. "I wonder why."

**Untill next time, see ya!**


	7. Death and Discovery

_**OH DEAR GOD. **_

_**How long has it been since I've updated? Or for that matter slept. I miss sleep. **_

**_However, this fic has been placed on a mini-hiatus while I get over my GCSE's. I will get through em. Even if it KILLS me._**

_**Oh, and it will.**_

_**And its chapter Seven! Yay me!**_

**_And even more amazing, its looking more than likely that I'll actually finish this…_**

_**For the first time ever…**_

**_IMPORTANT! _**

_**ANYTHING WRITEN LIKE THIS: BLAH is someone speaking in a different dialect.**_

**_Parts of the following story will be written in Sign Language, and some passages of the story will be concentrating on how s/he 'Speaks' in this language. (Hand movements, etc.)_**

**_All the sign used in this story is BSL, British Sign Language. It may be not exact though, cos its hard to write. You get the idea, though._**

**_

* * *

_**

Dark Jak stumbled forward, moaning and tossing his bloody head from side to side. Once the fiery rage had cooled, it had been replaced with red-hot agony blazing from its damaged eye-socket. Somehow –Dark wasn't sure how- he had found his way into Haven's sewers. It blundered through the darkness, howling as stagnant water seeped into his gore-smeared wounds. His beak, fractured in thousands of tiny places emitted a stream of syllables intelligible to anyone near, but the meaning was clear and the harmonic sang of pain.

_** Help me **_

Finding a wall it pressed its head against its slimy surface and prayed to any dark goddess listening to ease its agony in its broken body.

Miraculously, the pain disappeared.

Then came back with a vengeance.

Dark screamed and its guttural howl echoes around the tunnels, sending the kanga rats scuttling for cover.

**_ HELP ME! _**

And then slumped, the light in its one remaining eye fading as death claimed its soul, and dragged it to whatever abyss in hell it had reserved for itself.

* * *

Maia leaned over the pool, watching the Dark spirits last laboured breaths bubble out of its battered frame. Behind her, Gol sorted through the chunks of burnished precursor metal, separating them into two piles. 

Seeing that their plaything was at last, dead, she picked up the tatty notebook at her feet and lazily flicked through the pages. It was a re-rite of a manuscript written by both of them 500 years ago. Gruesome pictures of semi-dissected lizards stared fixed in mid-twitch as pencil drawn eco sparks traced its way across their charcoal sketch body. Metals and their properties were listed to one side of these, and other results and anomalies, such as the formation of a glowing, stony tumour on their foreheads were pencilled in.

Her eyes hovered over a sires of pictures showing how one type of lizard –a desert gecko, would morph if exposed to enough eco…how strips of pig iron could be 'wielded' to its frame... to form a beast stronger, and more loyal, than ordinary lurker grunts.

However, what should have been killers, over time had become obsolete. She picked up the jar of eco and put in a bag…a little too hard. She them watched as the eco leaked out of the now shattered jar, and set about corroding the sac. Turning away from the bubbling mess on the floor, she began helping her brother.

When they had both finished their work, they walked back to he pool in the centre of the room, and dived in. Allowing the life-blood of the planet to carry them to Haven, the two Dark Sages felt themselves becoming a little closer to their goal.

* * *

The small group skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust, scree and loose pebbles. Whilst the leapers behind her mount wittered in distress and fanned their wings worriedly, Seem stepped down and turned to her entourage.

"I'll go. We don't want to risk being detected…and I can fight…acceptably. I want two monks to wait for me here, along with three leapers."

Here she bowed, amongst the worried murmuring of her underlings.

Two wry male monks flanked her, the one on the right holding the reins to the spare pack-beast.

"Ya ken wha tha lass said. Go on." Said the one on the left, named Flot, his heavy Irish-Scottish accent remarkably soft and gentile.

"Aye, tis nary a laughing matter when ye noo folla her ruooles." Added the other man, in the same type of accent but in a more burly tone, less suited to his profession.

Seem wrinkled her nose. "Ach, forgive ma brother, Jet, Seem, 'e wus only havin a wee bit ta fun."

Seem nodded and walked towards the temple. Behind her the nervous leapers sped away, whilst the brothers Jet and Flot put a comfortable distance between them and the temple, and sat down to watch.

Seem walked up to the solid, precursor metal-lined doors and concentrated, putting herself into the prayer position. With her eyes closed she wove her fingers in front of her face, leaving little trails of light eco in their wake. The bronze Ying-yang symbol twisted and sank into the metal inlay. The doors then swung inward, and without any hesitation, the woman gilded forward through the doors.

The deeper Seem ventured into the temple, the angrier she grew. The bare stone walls that formed the corridor walls were stripped of their metal covering, by someone chipping away the stone underneath. Statues lay twisted, smashed and broken, and the oily stench of liquid Dark Eco

Hung heavy and obtrusively in the air.

After an hour of wandering through the temple without results, seem spotted a shallow grow in the now stone floor, like something extremely heavy had been dragged across its surface. Looking up, she saw ugly scratches in the stone above.

Then she carried onwards, scuttling up a set of stairs ahead. On the edge of her hearing, distorted by echoes, was a myriad of noises- banging, roaring screeching, and as she reached the top, she saw the source.

Hundreds- it looked like hundreds at least, of metals heads were caged in the top floors. Some, like the scorpions, were stored tightly packed in iron cages. Other, more humanoid metal heads were locked away in makeshift cells. To Seems right, an old altar was being used as an operating table…for live vivisection. The latest victim lay in mid-writhe, blood drying and congealing around it.

Turing away, feeling sick, she peered into the next cell and saw…

Jak.

Pulling away the five dead bolts on the cell door, she ran to her acquaintance's side…and very nearly had her face caved in by Jak's fist. His knuckles, inches away of her pale face, were withdrawn. Jak pushed himself upright painfully, shaking slightly.

"What happened Hero?"

Jak shook his head.

"Please, please _Jak"_, she begged stressing his name, "You have to tell me. _Have _to"

Jak shook his head, and pointed on his throat.

Seem only looked confused.

Jak paused, then tried a different tact. Facing Seem he pointed at her then slowly rotated his palms over each other. He prayed that over 500 years SSL – Sandover Sign Language, hadn't change much.

He repeated it.

_ You. Sign ? _

Seems eyes lit up.

"Yes, I used it in the monasteries when I was under my vow of silence. It was a way of getting round it. Some of the spells require HSL anyway…"

Jak swept his palms over each other, linked his pinkies and then tapped his open palm with his index finger.

_ H . S . L ? _

"Haven Sign Language. Will you tell me now what happened?"

Jak shook his head, then allowed his fingers to dance over each other.

_ No Time - We Go Now…G-O-L and M-A-I-A Coming Soon. Danger. Leave. _ Here Jak paused, waiting for Seem to catch up with his sign, clipped from his mild panic. _ I Need Help Walking… _he added, slightly embarrassed _ Can't Walk On My Own. _

Seem nodded and helped him upright. With her support, they both tottered out of the cell.

* * *

"Damn, blue-boy. I mean damn. You scared?"

The Blue Sage behind her twitched ever so slightly. "Yes! I mean no! I mean, just kill the thing."

The "thing" in question was a kanga rat, making its ugly scuttling way along the street. It seemed completely unconcerned with the chaos its little self was making.

"Why? It anit doin me no harm." Observed the Yellow Sage unhelpfully.

"_Kill-it-kill-it-kill-it-kill-it-kill-it-kill-it-kill-it."_Shirked the man.

"Now darlin, aint it my job to scream like a girl?" Chuckled the human shield, unslinging a sniper rifle and lining up the rat in her sights. Then, remembering the barbed comment at their first meeting, shifted her aim slightly.

Her bullet pinged off a rock behind the vermin, sending it squeaking and hopping towards the two. Blue howled in fear as the tiny rat got closer to them. Giggling, Yellow stepped forward and swept the rat up in one hand by the tail, and waved infront of her new "friend".

"Now, Honey, you can bet I'm gonna remember this." She said, tossing the creature over her broad shoulder. "Blackmail, ya' know?" she added helpfully. The doors behind them opened with a hydraulic hiss, and a lone man on a leaper rode in. Yellow stepped in front of her victim protectively, and dropped her rifle on the floor. Reaching into her volumous coat, she pulled out another, this one more worn and larger.

More dangerous.

What's that? Hissed the Blue Sage behind her.

"Ma baby, _Morning Glory_"

"What?"

"High explosives. Now, less talk, more shush."

"WHAT?"

"What part of shush don't you understand?"

Hissing to himself about insanity under his breath, the Man shuffled backwards into the shadows.

"Hello Trigger." Intoned the man in a slow voice. He seemed to take great care to pronounce every syllable available.

"Rowdi! Gawd, don't DO that!"

Now he stepped into the light, they could see the details…the ruddy face, the ruby tinted clothes, the massive frame. He was, very obviously, the Red Sage.

"So-rr-y. Him?"

"Hmm? Oh, him, Rowdi" (Here she reached back and dragged the protesting Blue Sage) "Meet the current Blue Sage…" she trailed off and looked at the man dangling from her grasp. "Sorry Honey, what did you say your name was?"

The Sage in question pulled away from Trigger and straightened himself. "I didn't." he muttered to himself "Well, well,wellwellwell-" his two fellow Sages watched as his hands made emphatic gestures, each hand mirroring the other. "I, well, I am known as Bolton Springdew, from Kras City. And you, well, wellwell, what are your names?"

The Yellow Sage laughed. "You already know my name, Bolt, its Trig, Trigger, Triggy, whatever ya want. Nuthin more nuthin less. From Sparagus."

"Trigger? Don't you have a surname?"

"I used to. Not anymore."

Bolton let it drop. "And you…? Rowdi, wasn't it?

"Rowdent O'Nigh. Rowdi will be fine."

"Who are we waiting for?"

Trigger raised two fingers. "The Keeper, Mar, and the Green Sage, uh, Samos something-or-other"

The leaper beside Rowdi squawked happily as it devoured a Kanga rat that had been creeping close. Bolton's blue cheeks turned green as he watched the spectacle. Unexpectedly, a strangle sound graced the air for a second, and Rowdi's leaper stopped looking for more vermin, raised its head and returned the call.

"Sounds like a pack o' Leap-Lizzies ta me. Dem Critters alwus call ta one or nother." Said the Yellow Sage to the Red.

"A…pack?" Asked Blue.

"Monk folk, they breed 'em. Monk travel with packs, don't dey, Rowdi?"

The Red Sage shrugged.

A loud humming was heard as a red-painted desert cruiser blasted its way towards Sparagus.

"And here comes our last Sage." Muttered Trigger to herself.

**_Till next time folks!_**


	8. Connections

**_To my reviewers:_**

**_Thank you for the wonderful supportive comments._**

**_I had a break in the hiatus thing to put this up. I sleep now._**

_**Enjoy!**_

A breeze whipped up tiny clouds of sand in the desert, twisting and twirling in the mid-night sky. Through it all walked the Osttel, her pearly teeth clenched.

She was around three foot high, wearing plain purple robes, girdled by a ring of silver. Not exactly impressive. In fact the most interesting object around her person was a wooden staff, which, although plain, was wreathed with fragrant lily blooms. She moved on her hind paws, teeth clenched as the sandstorm around her raged.

This staff, clenched in orange-furred fingers, trembled in anticipation.

"You call, I hear you my beauties." She cried in her shrill, ottsel voice. "You call!"

She jumped and danced in triumph, shaking the staff at the sky.

"You hear that, Apollo? I, Artemis, the hunter god of Darkness, have returned!"

Then she dropped all pretences, and scuttled off on all fours, in the squirrelly bouncing lope that all of her species preferred for running.

* * *

The Keeper watched her charges with a faint smile on her lips. The monks below had broken their vow and silence and were 'debating' heatedly with each other. From the depths of the temple, runes were moving, flowing like water along the temple walls, spreading messages to the disciples of light. The problem was the runes didn't make any sense, just random gobbledygook, patterns. Her expression hardened when she remembered her task. Pulling her pale form upright, she glided past the monks and into the labyrinths below.

* * *

The four Sages had finally met, only to be disbanded again by the arrival of a half-conscious, half-naked Jak. Samos had rushed off with his bad temper flaring up, which the yellow sage, Trigger, suspected concealed some kind of fatherly feelings for the young man.

Trigger banged on the bar impatiently. She needed booze, and she needed it now. That_ thing _was back, and it would once again be the savour of worlds and everyone would fall back down on their knees and kiss his ass. And the people would rejoice. The cocky little shit.

Naw, she mused swigging back whatever was in her mug (it damn well wasn't beer), that wasn't right. She didn't have a problem with him, as a person. She wasn't even worried about the split-personality thing he had going on. It was fairly common in Sparagus, the heat and sand and whatever just _got _to the people left outside the gates just a little too long. From what she heard, she guessed that he went nuts with eco for a while, sometimes. That was fine.

But it couldn't be ignored that he'd single-handedly destroyed Sparagus. Firstly, by killing the king, secondly by running away to Haven-city to duck his responsibilities and thirdly - and most importantly, by destroying Sparagus' religion.

Sure, the monks still worshiped the Mightly Ones, but for most, it was hard to say that without sarcasm. Bluntly, when you're having your ass handed to you in a fight, praying to scrawny rats to save you just didn't cut it. It wasn't a faith or a belief anymore, it was a fact. A nasty-anti-climatic fact. People wondered how a bunch of rats could save them, listen to their prayers, create them. The city had sunk into a depression – literally. Religion was the driving force in the town.

She pulled out a pack of fags and sucked on one eagerly, savouring the ashy taste. Samos wanted for her to pick up some heavies to guard him, but she couldn't think of any who would manage not to shoot the bastard. She scanned the room puffing out her cheeks in and out as she thought. She was looking for a few looking for any newbie's – they wouldn't be that honour-bound –

Ten Waste Landers saunter into the bar. They were fingering their guns lovingly, and allowing everyone in the room to see the grey gear tattooed onto the heel of their palms. Other clientele shifted slightly, allowing the new-comers to see the knotted leather thongs worn round their necks. Silence dominated the room for a second, and the two groups, without a word, left.

"Just what we need." She growled, "An Fanatic Gathering."

"Go out and stop the idiots, wouldja?" Asked the bar-man.

"Why me?" She snapped. She was Not. In. The. Mood.

"Because you can shoot fire-balls."

She snorted. "Ih expect free booze, fer keepin' your gormless men breathin'"

Fantic's were the name Trig gave the new cults springing up all over Sparagus, to plug the religious gap left by the precursors. The Gatherings had started out peaceful enough, with men and women debating over whom the precursors were, and other evangical crap. From these meetings, three new religions sprang.

The first was originally called Resistance, but now was known as Rezza. It believed that the whole planet was created by the precursors to develop slave races, and the arrival of the metal heads were a kind of ethnic cleansing designed by the holy osttels. They also believed that the Precursors abducted people regularly, and that on the day of reckoning they would return, in full force to murder/enslave the whole planet. They always wore multicoloured clothing, as an act of 'rebellion' against their 'Overlords'

The second believed that the Osttels were _themselves _a slave race, for a far more powerful God they wore the leather thongs around their necks. No-one really knew why. The third group believed that _they _were gods, far more-powerful than the Precursors, could ever hope to be. They saw the old gods as glorified rats, which had used technology to fool everyone. They were mechanics, determined to develop Precursor tech and rise above their previous idols. They had a gear tattoo. And because the three neo-religions were so similar, and at the same time so different whenever the three got together, fights broke out. They didn't even bother talk anymore. Instead, once a fortnight, all three gathered together in silence to kick the shit out of each other. 

Alcohol and yellow eco don't mix. Or rather they do, just too well. Yellow eco, being the magical substance of fire was strengthened with any type of alcohol, and stopped the user to become 'drunk'. Instead, Trigger became very, very dangerous – the booze impairing her morality, but sharpening her senses, making her a killer. She walked like a leopard, stalking her prey, sliding through the silent streets.

In the comforting feral mush that her mind had become, she failed to notice that the problems with the scenario. Concentrating on the silence, she didn't realised that it _shouldn't_ have existed – there should have been rioting, screaming and riotous incantations as the Fanatics kicked seven kinds of hell out of each other. Then she heard a sound. A short clipped word, a sound from the depths of hundreds of chests. Twisting her amber eyes all around, she padded towards it, drawing two pistols. As she walked, the sound became a horde of voices, roaring along to a single voice – **_BURN! BURN!_** As it got louder, she dropped lower to the ground, bent almost double in a crouch.

'**_BURN!'_** The crowd howled. Trigger arrived behind a flimsy wooden fence, cobbled together with driftwood from the beach, pockmarked with holes. Above her, a sheet – or perhaps a flag flapped lazily in the soft breeze, slapping the dusty stone walls occasionally.

She pressed an eye against the fence, feeling the splinters rub against her cheek.

Gol Acheron, Dark Sage, preached to the masses like he had to the lurkers, hundreds of years ago.

'WE ARE RIGHTIOUS! THE HEATHENS WILL-'

'-**_BURN!' _**finished the crowd. Trigger hissed at the man, as he strolled back and forth on air.

'BUT FIRST! BUT FIRST!' He yelled, getting the crowd back under his control. He paused, then- 'BUT FIRST WE MUST DESTROY THE LYING SCUM WHO HAVE HELD THE TRUTH FROM US! THE SAGES MUST-'

'**_BURN!' _**chorused the crowd.

'HUNT THEM DOWN!' Screamed Gol to the heavens. 'HUNT THEM AND MAKE THEM BLEED!'

In that once sentence the hunter, hidden behind the fence, became the hunted. And sober. Behind her, the religious zealots surged out of the town centre, brandishing torches, guns, knives swords, anything that they could grab- To attack the four most powerful beings living.

Trigger turned and ran, throwing caution to the winds, as she sped away, using alleyways, sticking to narrow spaces where sheer numbers couldn't over whelm her. She turned right, into a cul-de-sac, formed by three houses, all slanting at drunken angles and in some places leaning on each other. She charged forward, sprang, and grasped a window ledge high above. Here, she twisted, kicking off the wall, and grabbed one of the copper gutters of the opposite house with her bare hands and slipped her feet onto the piping.

Behind her the mob got closer.

'**_BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN!'_**

She shimmied up as high as she dared, until, her makeshift ladder started groaning under her weight. Trigger was now high above the streets, shrouded in darkness, but it wasn't enough. She looked behind her. There flapped on of the many sheets, left out to dry by some forgetful warrior. There were no grey areas about this – if she missed she would plummet to her death. (There would be, however, a large red area if she missed). But what choice did she have? She took a deep breath and jumped, across the five foot gap. She threw her arms forward, clawing at the air and just manage to grab both ends of the sheet.

'**_BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN!'_**

Momentum carried her forward.

There was a –crunch-, as she collided face-first into the building. Trigger felt the numbness spreading trough her face, and started climbing before the shock wore off and the pain settled in. Broken nose? Broken jaw? Or just badly bruised? She didn't know and didn't care. Hauling herself up the fabric until she reached the top quickly, before the dizziness set in, with warm sweat running down her jaw. Holding on to the roof with one hand she wiped it off, only to discover it was actually blood streaming from her nose.

Grunting, and rolling onto the thatch, she resisted the urge to shut her eyes.

'**_BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN!'_**

Growling to herself she began running across the roof tops. Trigger pulled out her comm. Unit and flicked it on, pulling down the volume settings for safety.

'Come on, cummon, cummon, cummon- Samos!'

'Yes?'

'Hey, little problem. You know tha dark sage – tha one whos rampaging? Yeah well, he's gotta whole lotta men and _hunting us down like M-heads! _Get ure self geared up – its gonna be a mother o' all punch-ups in abowt five minutes. You game?'

Samos spluttered, and was cut off with a crackle.

'Samos? Samos? Sa-'

'Woah, girl calm down. You're gonna help nobody or nuthin. Sig here. What's the problem?'

Trigger pressed herself onto the flat thatched roof.

'We are going to die, if _Ih _don't get any help here!' Let it be known that Trigger had little patience with…well…anyone tonight. The fact that she had to run away wasn't helping her mood any either.

'**_BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN!'_**

'Hold a mo would you?' Said Trigger, all too aware of her impending doom, unless she got some distance between her and the mob.

Her destination was the 'high rise', a building made out of wattle and daub with five floors. It was the power centre of Sparagus, and had cables and pipes to any part of the city. She jumped off the side of the building, and pulled herself into a kind of roof-top ally, formed by an oddly built house. Carefully she pushed the boxes inside aside, and then began piling the sturdier ones on top of each other awkwardly, in the small space. Fruit crates groaned underneath her as she pulled herself up, dripping juice. With no small amount of difficulty Trigger wedged herself between the two buildings, and squirmed upwards.

Up, up, up, the claustrophobic space she squirmed, until the icy breeze and the night sky greeted her bruised and bloody face.

She could see the mob below her - fairy lights bobbing and dancing above the ground. Of course, they were actually burning brands being brandished by big bastards that wanted to kill her, her fellow sages and anyone who got in their way, but still they were pretty enough, and kinda soothing. Taking her comm. unit from her belt, she wedged it between her shoulder and her ear she slipped off her belt.

'Listen, their heading for the palace…hello?' fuzzy static greeted her, and she turned it off. Looping the leather round her chest and holding the two ends in her teeth, she jumped up, and locked her legs round a cable above her. Bear hugging the cable, with her long trench coat hanging down from her like a cape, she unhooked an arm and grabbed on end of her belt, and deftly pulled it over the plastic coated pylon wire, while tensing her other arm to hold her weight close enough to the cable. To make things a little more difficult, the cable began cutting into her arm and legs. Clenching the belt buckle in her teeth, she fed the other end through the clasp and secured it.

With the toughened yakow leather belt now fashioned into a harness, she began hauling herself hand over hand, listening to the shouts far below and the rhythmic _szzzth-szzzth-szzzth _sound she made when ever she moved another arm span.

She could see the power-house clearly now, it windows dar-

_-Crack!- _Her whole body swung upside down, her short hair stinging her eyes as she looked at the sickening drop below, with her trench coat wrapping round her head, weighted by her many guns she had hidden round her person. Her panicked shriek muffled by the cloth, she realised that her legs – the only part still holding onto the cable- were slipping, lubricated by her sweat. Clawing out of the trench, she lunged forward for the cable as she felt her legs go.

For one sickening second she spun round in mid air, with nothing to support her. Then her hands reached the wire and held on tight, while her now arch-enemy, momentum, snapped her backwards like a pendulum, then caused the wire to vibrate, almost shaking her loose. When the tremors had stopped, she looped her legs round the wire again, and carried on.

This time, without her belt.

* * *

A zoomer revved and boomed round the corner, almost rebounding off the debris still scattered here and there through out the city. Slowing down, the driver wolf whistled to two girls chilling on the top of a burnt out steel chassis. The girls gave him the finger as he turned the corner. Painted blue, it was one of the last zoomers still in existence in the city, which had only survived because it had been left out to rust. Now he was the proud owner the last speeder zoomers – that he pulled up and turned around, ready to 'talk' to the two sluts who DARED to give him the finger…when he was stopped. By Torn…uh, Torn's fist. Two jabs to the face and he was down, with a nice shiner shadowing his eye. Torn climbed onto the machine, one arm holding Daxter and grabbed the wheel tightly in one hand.

"Give me two hours." He said out loud. "And I'll come back to get you. Stay there."

The eco fae hovered high above the man, invisible against the blue sky. She nodded to herself as he roared off. In the mean time, she had two hours to work out how to explain herself.

Torn picked up his pace as he sat astride the zoomer, negotiating round sharp corners. There was no traffic, most of it turned to molten metal in The Surge, and so he could go as fast as he liked. A few freedom guards spotted him, and were about to flag him down, until they saw his face and thought better of it.

Seven minutes later, Torn skidded to a halt, jumping cat-like to the ground and sprinting, into Havens palace. Inside, algae had smeared itself down the walls and tables had rusted themselves to the sewage covered floor. Here and there lay dead Kanga rats, some floating in little pools of water where they had drowned. The whole place stank of decay, damp and death.

"I knew you don't do housekeepin', Torn, but this place stinks! Couldn't you get a cleaner? Or something?"

Daxter, revived by the stench, pinched his nose and stuck out his tongue.

"Get off me." Growled Torn.

"Oh no…ooohhh no, I aint doing down there." Retorted Daxter, settling himself on Torn's shoulder and pointing at the rotten carpet. "Didn't your mother ever tell you to never wade through shit?"

Dater paused.

"Actually, judging by your smell…" he trailed off grinning.

Torn harrumphed to himself darkly and walked off, every so often twitching his shoulder to try and throw the annoying rodent off. Daxter responded the only way he knew how…by singing at the top of his voice.

"_I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves,_

_Everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves,_

_I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves,_

_And this is how it goo-o-oes:_

_I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves,_

_Everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves,_

_I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves,_

_And this is how it goo-o-oes:_

_I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves,_

_Everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves,_

_I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves,_

_And this is how it goo-o-_ OW! Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow"

Torn held Daxter by the tip of his tail.

"Shut up."

* * *

Jak shot bolt upright, panting, in his room in Sparagus. The room was well lit, and in one corner, the mute could see Samos and Seem watching him. Hunter's Instinct (brother to women's intuition) knew that someone was beside the door, and by peering behind him he could see Sig. The huge man was hunched over his peacemaker, stroking it rhythmically. It was night outside and the holes in the walls that served as windows let in a pleasant breeze.

From the shadows sliding under the door jamb, Jak guessed that there were people waiting outside. Jak fixed his ears straight and ridged, at right angles to his head. The new measures made him feeling uncomfortable, as he was a loner by nature and preferred to act as a protector, than a protected. Of course, some vestige of common sense left reminded him that these were sensible precautions – he _had_ been kidnapped- but some how that just made it worse. He was humiliated, violated and defenceless. Not like himself.

"So." Intoned the Green mage, "Gol and Maia stole your voice." There was and awkward pause.

Jak tapped his throat, and gave a few short signs. _'No. It was never mine to begin with and what they've stolen instead is much more dangerous.'_

* * *

Maia peered at the corpse in front of her, and then reached down and touched it. Her fingers came away covered with the tacky, stringy, disintegrating flesh. She wiped the disgusting residue off her hands and turned to her brother.

"We must work quickly, unless we wish to give the dark goddess a pool of slime as her slave."

**_Woah. That was…horrible. I mean, god, a drunken monkey could write better. Still…I managed to get the bloody thing finished, even with writers block, exams, course work, bitchy teachers, mock tests, homework, birthdays, set backs, the computer deleting Every Single Fuggin Paragraph on at least five different occasions (This used to have a hospital scene…it was long and boring. The computer deleted it…SIX TIMES! I took it as a sign of god.)_**

_**Yeah, so I cut some of it, and I'm moving it (i.e. re-typing it - stupid bitchy computer) to the next chapter.**_

_**Yeah, Peace lurve and egg fried rice. **_


	9. Experiments

_**Rah. Whatever…this took so long to write…so long.**_

In her tent, the blind seer Onin watched as the thick grey smog netted the huge, burnt-out skyscrapers of Haven. It had come out of no-where, seeping along the floor, and trapping anyone in its path. Slowly the cloud unfurled itself, slipping over the walls first. It slunk over the ground, puffing lightly over raised sections of the city. People stopped and stared as it rolled towards them, a huge, uncompromising bank of wispy fog. The vapour rolled on, nether gaining or loosing sped, as it engulfed anything in its path.

It brought with it what at seemed at first to be rain. But the droplets were black and purple and flew towards the ground like arrow shafts in weird, arcing flights. Diluted Dark Eco. Onin looked closer.

The people in the fog were coughing occasionally. She watched as a man removed his hand, only to find it covered in eco-tar. Missing appendages, such as ear tips or fingers, became more and more common. Metal heads, horrifying armies and hordes of rebel Sparagans assaulted the shield walls, which now provided inconsistent power after the surge had racked it. Missing limbs became even more common, with legs and arms inexpertly healed by eco and salves, they became scarred for life.

People left in droves, only to be cut down by the heat, or gunfire from the Marauders, who were constantly on the prowl on the city borders.

Hades was growing rich, harvesting young souls before their life had been finished. Onin watched as the last Scythe-swish in the empty metropolis cut the lonely soul from an orphan who had lost everyone. Like the city of Haven. It then was fated to stand empty until time crumbled the fine structures to dust and washed the dead slums away.

Onin snarled in mute frustration as once again her timeline died, and she was flung from her vision and back into her own body once more.

Blind once more, and back in the present, the Seer allowed her wizened head to fall slightly. Future sight wasn't as easy as it looked, and was more a guessing game. Life still was unpredictable, but she could see how it _could _go, and how to get to that good future. But…she had made a mistake. She knew what she was doing when she guided the Shadow and Jak through a certain chain of events, even if it left Haven City unprotected for a few months. But she hadn't considered an Eco Surge. Or the Sages. They had destroyed her hopes for Utopia, and now she was desperately searching through the future to find a cure for this plague in the present.

But what ever she did, Haven fell in a matter of months to the Dark Twins. Haven appeared to be doomed.

With renewed energy of desperation, Onin reached out and grasped a new time-line a green fire-fly in a youthful palm, feeling the age wash out of her as she waded through the time cycle. Her soft rose eyes, cleared of cataracts, inspected the memory of the future easily. It was no different to the last, except for a single a speck of dust that drifted slightly to the right twenty years from the present. Worse than useless. Onin pushed her pink and blue bi-coloured hair out of her eyes and headed onwards, searching for a better future.

* * *

Maia looked at the corpse with a degree of pity. Dark lay crumpled on the floor, his flesh literally melting away, as he rotted rapidly, liquidised sinew dripping through rips in its skin and exposing the blackened bones underneath. Organs, freed of their muscle constraints had forced open a tiny flesh wound on his stomach, making it into a hole that stretched almost halfway along his body. His organs had rolled through, gushing out in a gory waterfall, basting his remains in a rotting garnish of blood, dark eco, stomach acid and intestines.

She reached down with her long fingers and closed her hand around Darks glistening liver. It was impaled on a loose scale from his pelt. She yanked it loose and tossed it into the river scornfully and shoved her palm once again into the body. Gol kneeled down beside her and helped her with her task. Methodically, yet savagely they prised out all the veins, arteries, organs and muscles. Then, with more care, they removed the bones, setting them to one side. They took apart his beak and claws, putting with the bones.

Next they turned the remaining skin inside out and worked on the web of capillaries, cleaning out the secretions inside and then removing them entirely.

Gol looked at what they had left. With a wave of his hand, Gol re-directed some fresh water over the area, washing away what wasn't needed and cleaning what was.

His sister clicked her fingers and a small crystal crackled into being, dusting her hand with glittering splinters. She inserted it into the stomach rip and started sawing and the tough demon-hide with glee.

"Who will control him until our Goddess arrives?" she wondered. Out loud, however, she voiced a slightly different question. "How will we control him – will our alchemy work? Or will we have to break him?"

Gol frowned. "Our talents will be enough, I am sure. He must have realised that we set him up, before he died."

"What if he didn't though, or what if he doesn't remember?"

"That's the interesting thing about the Eco-beasts." Gol replied, "They store their memories in their bodies, in every cell."

Maia snorted. "I know that, brother. I am the one who thought up this method, after all."

"He'll remember. He could not forget. Besides, if he does have a rebellious streak, we can very easily weaken him to the point of death – like we did after his fight with the red-haired man."

The following silence was broken by a dry tearing sound. Maia looked up and beckoned to her brother. Gol came forward with an armful of black bones. Under her supervision, he laid them in Darks pelt, and then folded the two halves back over. Maia darned the holes in the hide with Dark Eco, knitting the sharp snake scales together, and finally fixed his beak back on his face.

Gol, with his superior control of water, inflated up the gristly object with clean water from some pipes above him, and kept it inside, while Maia retrieved two glass ellipses from her bag and fixed them in his empty eye sockets.

Then the work began. Gol pressed a strip of treated Precursorium onto Dark's rib, channelling eco through his palm. The metal bent and blacked, and the corpses flesh bubbled like tar. The foul stench of burnt hair and skin filled the small sewers. Maia started wielding half moon ellipse along its spine, coughing as smoke wafted upwards and choked the air.

After an hour of the evil work, they both stood back to admire their handy-work

Maia, with a jar of dark eco, upended its contents into the creature's mouth. Holding another jar at arms length, she dumped its green sparking contents into its beak.

The corpse's flank began moving, imitating breathing. A clawless finger twitched. A tail moved.

* * *

Dark eco and Green eco shouldn't be mixed. But when they do, they can resurrect the dead.

The Blue Sage pressed his narrow face up against Jak's. "Well-well…well." He mused, his little square glasses wobbling precariously off the end of his nose. He took them off and began polishing them in rapid circles on his cuff, leaning back on his heels as he did so. He made a '_thuk' _sound as he sucked his teeth and shut his eyes, brows knitting.

This was a show of nerves that only Jak saw. Jak smiled. Not because the man was scared, but because the man was scared of him. And somehow, he didn't feel…tense or angry or worried, like he would usually did when he sensed a person's fear.

Oddly, the ability to sense a person's negative emotions had been fading too. In Haven, the ability to empathise beyond what nature had intended had almost driven him mad – if a person stood near enough and had enough passion he could feel exactly what they thought about him. But he was never able to hear anything useful, only whispers of curses and insults the elves around him were too cowardly to voice. Instead his gift was fading back to what he had in Sandover – a sixth sense that could only be used when he concentrated, over all emotions.

Was that a side effect of what Gol did to him?

Why couldn't he talk anymore?

Could _that_ day…have been more real than he thought?

…And what else could he do now the beast had been released?

"Well." Springdew huffed, annoyed. Jak thudded back to earth, to a conversation he was dangerously close to loosing track of. "Is that even possible? That the elderly Sages of Dark eco, could, well, _remove _a person's affinity with an eco? Or cure a person's blood-lust?" Bolton squinted at Jak. "Or that a, a, a temporary mutation of a persons DNA – a pure chemical reaction – could have a personality?"

Springdew put his spectacles back on his face gently. "And could this – well, sentience be capable of possession? Murder? Can you be 'murdered' by a soul in control of another's personality? But we're digressing here, into psychology and philosophy. Back to scientific fact."

He began pacing. "If we hypothesise, well, well uh, well, that's a big 'if' by the way, I'm stretching my professional credibility to the limit, but, well, if we ignore, for the moment, the improbability, no, impossibility that a by-product of overexposure to certain types of Eco, could produce intelligence…"

Bolton waited expectantly for perhaps half a second.

Jak was learning that the Sage was an impatient man.

"Well, we should be considering the scientific facts – which we have little to none – and I suppose the baseless speculation. And first…we must be sure that, well, well…well Jak here" The blue skinned man waved in completely the opposite direction Jak was sitting in. "Is not using this as a, a mere excuse to avoid accountability for his actions…well, we could be in some degree of trouble."

Sparking erratically at the thought Bolton turned around to interrogate Jak more, but froze at what he saw. His little blue energies– _his _eco, was orbiting round Jak's outstretched finger. Jak pushed at the little fuzzy thing and it skittered back, almost alive.

Everyone in the room was watching fixated. Jak called to the eco, pulling it back towards him. He flicked at it with a graceful index finger, making the blue droplet explode into tiny glittering dandelion seeds. They twirled and danced while Jak conducted them; a sweep of his tanned hands causing them to flow in joyful eddies around the room.

Jak seemed to swirl in time to the ethereal substance as it twirled round him in ribbons. There was more eco than when Jak started, much more. It reached out to everyone, in almost curious leaps away from its master to the other occupants. The guards at the door stuck their head round and started at the display of skill.

Another slow spin and Jak shut his eyes. He caught the tip of one of the thin ribbons that swam around him, almost if it was solid. Frowning in concentration, he ran his hands over it.

It twisted into a flat reptilian head, which leaned back, ready to strike. Just before it got close enough to do damage, Jak deftly snapped its jaws together and turned it into a blue leaper lizard. It squeaked happily, running round his creator once, before Jak let it disappear. Jak would have continued for hours, to celebrate his unexpected return of his gifts, but realised what he was doing. Playing with glowing ribbons. If Jinx ever found out, he would have a field day…he had already laughed at him when Jak shut down the gun turrets in Havens sewers. (And going down in history as the only person to call Jak a 'ballerina'. And live.)

He jumped out of the eco's embrace, landing next to Seem. Almost instantly, the eco lost is definition, and Jak called the fairy-dust back to his palm, crushing it.

When he opened his palm, a pure droplet of blue eco rolled in the centre, which he gave back to the speechless Bolton.

Seem walked over to Jak. "Amazing." She breathed in her sand-scarred voice. "You are able to channel blue eco?"

"Not since he was 14." Replied Samos, already starting to answer for Jak. "The Barons…treatments…we thought that the Dark Eco destroyed his compatibility."

"Yeah, an' a few weeks ago, he got himsel' fried by eco when he was hanging around some buggy."

Seem pursed her lips. "Perhaps his abilities were masked…"

Sig raised his non-existent eyebrows "You can't hide stuff like that." There was a pause. "Can yuh?"

There was a high pitched squeaking noise, and Samos, who had been perched in a corner, pulled out his comm. unit.

Samos glanced around the room, pausing on Jak. Jak waved at him to go on "Yes?"

Trigger's raised voice, panicked, screeched over the transmission.

"Hey, little problem. You know tha dark sage – tha one whos rampaging? Yeah well, he's gotta whole lotta men and _hunting us down like M-heads! _Get ure self geared up – its gonna be a mother o' all punch-ups in abowt five minutes. You game?"

Samos spluttered, and was cut off with a crackle. Sig wrenched the little machine from the old man's hands, while Trigger hissed from the other end.

"Samos? Samos? Sa-"

Sig, answered, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Woah, girl, calm down. You're gonna help nobody or nuthin. Sig here. What's the problem?"

"We are going to die, if _Ih _don't get any help here!" Trigger's static-filled voice snarled

"_**BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN! BURN!"**_

"Hold a mo would you?"

Their musings were broken by a dull roar. It for a moment, sounded lit the sea had broken its boundary's and was rushing towards the walls of the palace. But then under the static rush, they could make out faint words, and they chilled them to the bone.

_**BURN! BURN! BURN!**_

Suddenly everyone was moving. Jak bolted in front of Seem, his translator, waiting and protecting her. Sig hastily took up his massive weapon/baby/adopted child, its dull barrel shining dully in the candle light. One of the guards scrambled in and in a thick accent started explaining the situation.

"'S a riot, daown baih the palace walls. They came at us inatwo pincer formations. Look, there's nuthin we can do about it. We're trapped."

Sig waved him off.

"What yu thinkin' Jak? We can't just walk through that lot, they'll be on our six before you can kill a yakow."

Jak frowned, shooting him a _why are you asking me_? look.

"Hey now, You're the expert a' gettin' in 'n' outa places that you shouldn't be, n you've got more experienced wi' blood thirsty crowds than we do. Sparagan's are the best at huntin' metal heads, but we don't _do _urban combat. There usally ain't enough people ta fight."

Jak raised an eyebrow and pointed to the ceiling.

"Nah. Too open, 'n' we couldn't get everyone outta here 'fore they saw us. An' before you ask, we don't have bloody huge open drain, or passages underneath the castle. That would be damn stupid – it's built on sand."

For some reason, Jak was looking at the Blue Sage. This, in turn, caused the blue sage to panic. Blue eco bubbled and spat from his palms, which he rubbed nervously. "W-w-what?" He squeaked.

Although, yes, several fungi had more back-bone than he did, and an equal blue, luminous glow,The blue sage had heard horrific rumours and stories about the man - and Jak was a mass murderer (Even if a hell of a lot of them were written off as manslaughter or self defence).

Jak wasn't exactly on his 'huggy-people' list. More like, people-to-run-the-hell-away-from list. Getting death glares from said man can't be fun.

This is the reaction Jak wanted, however. The Sage, he had noticed, produced eco when frightened or nervous – pure, refined eco which Jak could very easily work with – in fact he found it easier to channel Sage eco, than vent eco. Within a few moments Jak had a reasonable amount in his palm. Turning to Seem he allowed the eco to float beside him in a power-cell formation, while he signed.

"He says", Seem said slowly, "He says –eco? Blue…what? Spell that. K-I-N-E-T-I-C…kinetic energy? hearing…anger? Outside? Oh, the mob. Right. This is…advanced". She admitted "I never learned the sign for scientific terms….just basic words. You'll have to go slower, Saviour."

There was a pause. Seem watched attentively while Jak signed and pantomimed his way through his explanation.

Finally she understood.

"He suggests…that we divide and incapacitate the men outside, with both blue and green ecos. With the blue eco he suggests creating solid mirages, like the lizard, of us.

Samos, he asks of you to give him a great proportion of your eco. He'll use the Green Eco offensively – you wouldn't be able to do so because of you're sage-hood and healer status. And Bolton, he asks of you to create an orb of blue eco the size of-" She broke off and gestured vaguely. "I think about "30 eint's (1)"

"Correct?" She asked. Jak nodded, and tapped his ears.

"He also asks of us all to…block our ears?"

"While this is going one, he believes it wise for us to travel in four groups – headed by the Channelers of Light, Green and Blue eco's – me, Jak, Sir Samos and Sir Bolton. Bolton, is advised to remove the kinetic energy of anything he deems a threat. He'll be doing the same. Samos and I will hold shields around our group.

"Sparagan'z can channel Eco too, little miss." Chimed in Sig. "Jak, should I round them up? They aint as strong, aint been trained enough - but they could be damn useful in a fight."

Jak nodded.

And the cogs of history, past, present and future clicked into place.

* * *

"Helu?" The delicate, lilting Eastern accent of the Monk echoed down the maze-like corridors of the temple. "Mise? You cannot come down heah. Thee Monks told mee that eet was not allowed. Mise?" 

The small cloaked form tilted the hood slightly, listening intently. Then it carried on walking…through a wall. Leaving the poor attending monk panting, in an empty, dark hall; all alone and very frightened.

The ghost of the Keeper walked down the halls while the walls happily dribbled ancient runes. Something was happening – something bad. The further she got down the hidden passageway she had walked into, the stronger the feeling got. It was a kinda stuffy feeling in her head, like when a storm was building and the air became heavy and still, just waiting for the first rain to fall. The question was, would the storm wash away them mud, or cause floods.

She quickened her 'pace' (she was floating in mid-air by now) and arrived at the statue. She soared down and sat on the floor.

A light breeze stirred in the room. It came from the statue.

"**NAME. RANK. PURPOSE." **It commanded, in a booming, army-sergeant style.

"I have come to you to retrieve the Mage's Oath, the Sage's Vow and the God's Decree, as commanded by you sister statue." She answered. "I am the Keeper of knowledge suitable for nether Precursors nor Men. I am Ramel Ha'kan Mar, Wife of the Sand Lord and Daughter of Bon and Onin.

The ancient statue seemed to shift uncomfortably.

"**THE OBJECTS YOU REQUIRE CANNOT BE SHOWN TO YOU. I HAVE BEEN TASKED WITH PROTECTING THESE SCROLLS. MY MISTRESSES AND MASTERS MUST COMMAND ME BEFORE I MAY GIVE YOU THEM."**

The battle-worn ghost snorted. "Give? I take."

* * *

"On three." Said Kleiver. Vegar sat on his shoulder, shivering miserably. He was trying to simultaneously to press himself into (less of a target) his steed…and not. Because this is _Kleiver_, Krew's ugly long-lost cousin (if rumours were true). Enough said.

Kleiver stood beside Seem, as one of the complimentary Channelers. Surprisingly he was a competent Red. Vegar, not so surprisingly, was a weak Light. Other Sparagans were grouped loosely together, competent Channelers and skilled marksmen and women ringing the less able combatants, the monks and the children. There were no elderly to take care of.

"Two."

Three other groups, with the same amount of people, were getting ready to charge all around the four points of the fortress.

"One" Ground out Kleiver.

Far above him, a single volley of Eco shot up into the sky – around 30 Eints of the stuff. As one, every elf shoved their hands over their ears-some plugging them with wax.

In group number 3, Jak concentrated hard. Shutting his eyes, he focused on the pure energy above.

Energy was energy was energy – whether it was heat, electricity, whatever, one form of energy can be turned from another – electricity (a main component of Blue Eco) to heat (yellow eco), for example…or, perhaps, electricity to sound.

Isn't physics _fun_?

For the aggressors? No.

The rioters screamed as the pressure wave of pure 170-80 (2) decibel noise, rammed itself down their ear holes causing their eardrums to explode. The sound waves created a solid wall of air, moving at 10-20 miles per hour, bitchslapping the men and women, and physically vibrating their vocal chords and bodies. The huge and rapid expansion air cooled it down and the faintest whips of fog began to appear in the ripped air. (3)However, because of the fact Jak had used Blue Eco – a short lasting, high energy Eco, it only lasted for a few meters, and dissipated almost harmlessly. Meaning that some rouge saboteurs escaped with some of their hearing. Those closest to the blast lay dead. A radio tower twisted itself round with a mournful cry and plummeted to earth, hitting terra firma with a resounding crash, sending shards of metal everywhere.

The escape begun.

**_(1) Eints. Eco Pints, a measurement of eco – roughly the amount of blue eco to rip apart a small building._**

_**(2) This is all true. This will happen if this amount of noise hits you. I looked it up.**_

**_(3) Okay, back to bull shit. Where's the fun if you kill off all the aggressors so easily?_**

**_It's supposed to be an Iranian kind of accent. On reflection, it reads more like African…_**

_**Well, damn.**_

_**Thanks to Afeenaninganing for giving me Ramel's name.**_


	10. Omnipresence

Chapter 10

_**Less talky, more lazy.**_

Torn watched the water leaking from the port, from high Just by being there, it felt like it was showing him the middle finger, and telling him to "suck on it, dread-boy". For some reason, the water had Daxter's voice. Perhaps it was because that Daxter was behind him. Perhaps it also was because Torn had found a whole bunch of reasons to re-start his vendetta with the Ottsel.

Within five minutes of walking into the conference room, the rat had insulted three of Haven's leaders, hit on the other two, tried to look down Ashlin's top and managed to guzzle all of the scotch in the drinks cabinet. The fact that it had been locked hadn't fazed the rat at all, and was now eyeing the more expensive bottles of Rose-tinted wine and whisky.

The good thing about this scenario was that Torn could probably push the rat out of the window and make it look like an accident. He was sure that the other people wouldn't mind lying in court just this once. Commander Haryew especially, as the scotch had been his in the first place. And there were several KG recruits whole could testify on how much Haryew loved his scotch whisky – KG recruits who were no longer mere infantry men, thanks to well placed, and moreover discreet offerings to the military God.

Ashlin sighed and raised her voice. The others in the room stopped glaring at the Ottsel and gave her their full attention. Apart from Commander Haryew, who kept checking which bottle Daxter had laid his fingers on, and, more often than not, wincing at the expensive brand.

"We can see from this map the extensive damage to our city." Behind her, a holo-graph, covered with red areas, crosses and tiny notes popped up, which everyone stared at. "The Industrial Section is what I believe we should focus on first." The graph focused on the Industrial section, magnifying itself at Ashlin's command. Grey photos with time signatures framed the picture. "We can see from several images what the immediate problem is, the water that has run from the port via the craters created in the surge. As the Industrial Section is low-lying, the whole area is begging to flood."

"Wait – I thought that all of Haven was low lying." Cut in Ricol Basmilril, Head of Haven's planning department. "- Apart from some of the central areas. Why is only the industrial section being focused on?"

"Yah let your people build on low-lying land?" Asked Haryew incredulously. "When Haven is surrounded mostly by marshland and Sea?"

"If you knew half as much as me, you would know about subsidence. How the ground sinks slowly over time. But you do not, Miren. So do not pretend you do." Growled Ricol, glaring daggers at his enemy. Miren Haryew returned the favour.

"Subsidence is the least of our problems now!" The newly rebooted Vin, head of intelligence, "I barely survived the surge – and they said I was crazy when I installed that earthing system in the power-grid computer – and now, were gonna drown and die! Er…if we don't do anything of course. B-b-but Dr. Basmilril is right, Haven is low-lying, but all the rubble stopped the water spreading-"

"Hold on, hold on." Said Ricol in his rolling Indian accent, "If the rest of the city did not flood, why is the tower wet?"

"Oh, the city flooded alright, but that was _completely _different. For some reason, the water level in the sewers rose to RECORD levels, and we had to pump it all out. And NOW we have the port leaking, and we just _can't_ get rid of it!" Vin explained in his quivery voice.

"Get more pumps." Growled Haryew.

"Oh? F-from where? The Surge destroyed _all_ our equipment - kaboom destroyed, we can't just put it b-b-back together. We're using HAND pumps, and they're not fast enough! Oh, and don't let me think about the things in the port!"

"Things in the port?" Questioned Torn, interested.

"Ggaaahh! I thought I told you NOT to let me think about it. Ooooh, I'm gonna burn out my systems just thinking about how much damage those teeth could do to a circuit board…"

"There have been sightings of salt water Lurkers – big ones, swimming into the port, now the doors are out of action." Supplied Ashlin, tonelessly.

"How long will it take for the water in the industrial section to rise high enough to let them in? T-t-that's where I am, remember, and I can't move!"

"I have more bad news, about animals in the city."

"Oh god…" whimpered Vin. "W-w-what was it? On second thoughts, I don't wanna know – was it big?"

"One was, the other wasn't. The big one attacked me. It was like a lizard – big, and with condensed Dark eco all over it." Torn described, rubbing his blue ear tip

"That's ALL we need" Said Vin, voice rising through a scale and back again.

"It hurt you, didn't it? Ashlin walked over and studied his ear tip. "An odd colour, bright blue. But it looks more like a scar than a new wound. The flesh around it is tattered and bumpy, like a scar." Ashlin tugged his ear closer and shuffled forward. "What happened?"

"The big one attacked me." Torn repeated.

"So, how do we fight the THING, then, how d-did you kill it?"

"I didn't."

"WHAT? WH- _oh, _you mean someone else killed it, and s-s-saved you. For a moment there, I thought that you meant that it was s-s-still running around the _city._"

"It isn't dead."

"WHAT?"

"I hurt it, then another creature distracted it."

"Another one? ANOTHER ONE? There's two now?"

"There other one is different. She helped me."

"Oh, that's just _great. _Two dark eco beas-"

"She's light eco, I think."

"F-f-fine. One light eco and one dark eco, how do we know that she won't _rip_ our throats o-out?"

"Y'don't have a throat, 'lekkie boy." Supplied Daxter unhelpfully. No-one paid him any attention.

"That's why I told her to come up here."

"ARGH, YOU DID WHAT! D-d'you _want_ to kill us? Oh, oh oh…." Vin's holographic head disappeared, and didn't come back.

"D'yuh know what I find weird? That, y'know, thhhaaatttt- what was I saying? Oh yeah. That Jak looses his powers 'n' like, we have two eco-thingies, attakin' 'n' helping people. S'like when Jak goes Dark 'n' Light." He then promptly passed out, leaving everyone in stunned silence.

"H-h-he's right as well." Said Vin, who had stopping sulking and panicking after hearing Daxter's proclamation. "I-it is unusual…"

"You can ask her now. She's here." Said Torn dryly.

"W-what, where? Where?" Cried Vin, spinning around. Torn pointed through the glass, at the glowing blue speck hovering outside the window.

"Oh."

Torn leaned over and unlatched the window, letting it swing open. The fae came tumbling in, blown by the strong breezes. She managed to right herself in the middle of the room, at the centre of everyone's attention.

"No more games. Who are you?"

"I am…Dark Jak's antithesis."

"What does that mean?"

"Where he is large, I am small. Where-" she began, like she was reading off a list.

"I know what antithesis means. I want to know who are." Commander Haryew snapped irritably. But the little woman kept on talking.

"Where he is offensive, I am defensive. Where he is male, I am female. Where he is Dark, I am Light. Do you understand?"

"…The rat was right." Growled Torn in surprise.

"The Precursors gave him a female spirit?" In the background, Haryew guffawed and Basmilril looked in confusion at Vin, who quickly explained who the 'him' was.

"Anything else would have ripped him apart. The precursors knew that Jak's mind would be destroyed if they gave him two beings of eco with even the slightest similarities, and so they had to use me, Aura."

"Your name is Aura?"

"Correct, although my real name is Seran, Aura is the nearest your language can get to my original title."

"So Jak used you..?" Queried Ashlin, slightly horrified.

"I did this willingly

I come from the Precursor's dimension – I work for them, in a way. It was after the Great Separation, and-" She caught the openly confused expression on Vin's face "And you probably have no clue what the Great Separation, correct? Very well, I will explain…"

Before the statue could react, Ramen had already darted forward, jumping straight through the bronze statue's walls like they were nothing more than fog, and then she was running faster, and faster. With a click, automated weapons slipped out of their rubber and metal holsters, and waved around, searching for the heat signature of their quarry. But Ramel had been dead for seven long years, and imprisoned in a cold, dank temple for just as long. Any vestiges of heat she might have possessed had seeped out of her transparent frame many moons ago, and the bullets, although certainly fatal for any living creature that stayed into their path, held no threat for her.

Never the less, she ran. She had no idea why, but something told her that old habits were better left unbroken. Call it animal instinct, call it human nature, call it logic. If she was still here – if the precursors could keep her lodged on her planet, and if she still had a reflection, then perhaps she could still get hurt. She hoped she would never find out.

She ducked under a beam (another reflex she had carried with her – she could of just gone straight through it) and slowed down. In front of her was a door, simple and small with hinges. It was made from rusted iron, the metal the Precursors used before Precurorium was discovered.

This meant that the door was old. Possibly older than the world, as sometimes the precursors brought whole temples and rooms to earth if they were important enough. Ramen felt the metal, her fingers sliding through the metal when she pushed too hard. If the door was made from such an ancient metal, it ment that it was here was where the prize was kept. Or it could be a decoy. Ramel paused and ran the Scroll's tale over in her head.

Long ago, aeons and eons ago, before the proto-planet for Jak's world had been hit by an errant neighbour and formed the earth and the two moons, there lived a race of creatures with amazing powers. These were the precursors, the Gods. Some could move mountains, or raise the dead, but only one had the True Sight, omnipresence. Her name was Clio, High Lady of History. She came for the family of Camenae, and was the daughter of Mnemosyne, the Goddess of Memory, and Apollo, Lord of Light. She had eight sisters – though she was friendlier with her sister Thalia, Lady of poetry.

Clio had a great desire to know, and in time learnt all the deepest and darkest secrets of precursor-kind. It was with her insight that the Dark-Makers cult was found and outcasted. But Clio was forbidden by her father to look into the affairs of her family, and failed to realize that her aunt, Artemis the Hunter, was the Dark Makers leader.

Clio had destroyed her aunt's allies and friends with her gift. One night, Artemis visited her…

Silently, the Hunter Artemis walked towards her niece. The small, blind, albino Ottsel sat on her winged tripod-throne, watching the duel red suns sink in tandem in the sky. The twin sets of wings on her throne stretched out bathing its grey splattered wings in the dying sunlight. Then, with a slight metallic rustle, they snapped shut.

The Hunter creeped up behind her kin, drawing her sword. The hiss of metal on metal stuttered round the room. The Albino spun her head around while her chair hopped and flapped its enchanted wings in a panic. Its simple magical mind called forth large bird talons on each of its three feet, ready for fight or flight.

"Relax." Came Artemis' voice. "Calm the feather cushion, before she comes."

"Artemis?" asked Clio uncertainly "What's going on?" She hated being ignorant.

"One of you're relatives has come to kill you." Said Artemis calmly. "She was part of the Dark Makers, and wants revenge." She stalked forward, pulling the short sword back, like a knife, ready to strike. "I have to be here."

Clio, although a cripple, was sharp. She didn't fail to miss the Ottsels slip. "She? Artemis, you said 'she'. Stay away."

Artemis charged, brandishing her sword.

Clio never stood a chance. But although she was ignorant how she would die, she was aware that she was to die soon, and called Thaila to her aide. She saw far, far into the future and predicted where her help would be needed. She got her sister Thalia to record sets of prophecies. Three of them resided here on one large scroll, in the Precinct ahead. Ramen pulled open the door, wrenching it off its hinges and its foundations of rust and walked into the room.


	11. Playing God

**_Chapter 11_**

Artemis waited calmly. She stood in the desert oasis, bathing in the dawn light with gave her holy fur a pleasing glow. He gaze was set at an angle to the Oasis' pool, so she was looking slightly above an average elf's head height, if they stood on the surface of the water. Her black claws tightened around the rock she had seated herself on, as the sun rose a little higher. How late was it, she wondered idly. The planet didn't have the normal three sun orbit her planet had.

The oasis tensed.

Ever so slightly, the Ottselle eased her eyes downwards. The small ripples in the oasis had frozen in place around the shallows of the pool, and from the near the shore a small black spire appeared, like a black lily bud. The dark eco bloom unfurled, slapping against the water, petals violently rent backwards, covering a large part of water and shore, with black ooze. Then, the black _dropped_, through the ground and formed (with a hiss of sand, as it tumbled over the edge) a spiral stair case.

The hunter's delicate nose twitched, as old, heavy, possibly corrosive air hit her nose. It seemed to be coming from the portal – she savored the breeze, but resisted the urge to turn her head away.

The second thing to emerge from the portal was a bronze beak, scuffed from some battle. A horrific, melted face followed it into the desert air, with cold, soulless crystalline eyes that out shone her fur. The rest of its body followed at an unnatural pace, like it was moving at double speed _without physically moving faster. _It crawled up the dust piles, and then curled up out on the bank. An oily-skinned man and his deathly pale companion followed, flanked by rank upon rank of metal heads, of every creed and color. They settled down, lying lethargically on the shingle of the oasis' banks

Artemis smiled at her congregation and raised her hands. Upwards and outwards, beckoning Gol and Maia forward. Metal-head's lumbered out of the way, forming a path in the damp sand for them to follow. Brother and sister walked up the isle, with The Dark beast following at a distance, it's horrible bloated body complaining under it's orange armor.

She watched in amusement as their eyes widened at the sight of her, a little orange rat, with enough power already to control a whole horde of metal heads without even trying properly.

"My Lady." Maia stated with the barest hint of question in her voice. "We have come to serve you, and we bring an army of metal-heads to do your bidding. And within a week, you will have a battalion of elves to aid your divine cause."

"We also bring a monster that we have tamed for your holiness." Added Gol, tugging on the chains that bound the dark beast. It shambled forward, the middle of its belly dragging along the ground.

Artemis smiled, although inside she shuddered in disgust at what she saw – these things were horrific, warped by her eco to the point of breaking. Their bodies weren't designed for eco, and it was destroying them slowly but efficiency, she could see it in their sunken eyes.

"Shut your eyes, and receive my blessings." She demanded suddenly, an idea forming in her mind. The twins in front of her shut their eyes obediently, as did the Dark Goddess. She concentrated hard, finding the the right point inside each person and creature in front of her, where the DNA coiled inside the nuclei in their cells, and twisted it, pressing the molecule until the Double helix was pushed flat.

The monsters in front of her imploded, flesh and skin and cloth and metal folded in on itself, sucked the remains into pink pricks of black, floating on the desert floor.

She had killed them all. In one smooth movement, they were all wiped from the face of the earth.

She threw her hands outwards. The specks expanded once again, regaining their forms they had just lost, but with one vital difference. Their bodies were no longer made of carbon, and blood no longer sang through their veins. They no longer had faces, and their skin wasn't rough or pitted anymore. Each and every one of them had smooth crystalline bodies.

Artemis commanded an army of golems. She nodded in contentment, loving her new, beautiful minions. Jumping to the ground she sent them to do her bidding, to destroy the temples and Oracles her brother Apollo had created, and to destroy the Sages that were sworn to protect them.

In Haven, Light began her story where Ramen's tale ended.

"After Clio's death," she said slowly "her father, Apollo, decided to split the realms of Light and Darkness. There was no reason, but blind, terrible rage at his daughter's death. He gathered his strongest Mages and at his word, they ripped the world apart, separating light, dark and coloured ecos – this world- into their own dimensions, leaving the precursor dimension eco-less, for a time.

However, after many years, Apollo relented and began to merge the dimensions back together, until the 'colour' dimension held light and dark eco and the light and dark dimensions were almost touching.

With their gods blessings, the Econains worked together to ridge the gap between the two dimensions.

At the same time, the Econians, with precursor technology, travelled to the elves dimension, the colour dimension, to observe the new creatures that had evolved without the God's assistance. Evolution was a new and bold concept, and no-one really believed that it could happen. But we began to gather evidence of the complete opposite. Without the God's guidance, matter had been created in the coloured dimensions, and from that matter came life – a simple, single celled organism that was created when a bolt of lighting hit the primordial soup of your planet. Well, that's the soundest theory we've come up with anyway. Anyway, these beings, over thousands of generations, began this single species began to change – they, more able to complete, and so brought competition on other members of their species, which changed themselves to compete. Through trail and error.

I was on the archaeology team. We've found thousands of fossils, in sedimentary rocks which prove evolution exists. We've even managed to date the rocks, to prove that the world is older than we once thought – millions upon millions of years. Millions of years to change and diversify. It was amazing. We'd never seen anything like it – the small population of precursors could never have done anything like that, on such a massive scale.

Of course some of our team were sceptical, scared. We are after all, directly affected by the Precursors, even if you aren't. And we had proved the Precusors had been bettered by time and fate – something that even they struggled to control. Some of the Econians tried to stop us and called our findings blasphemous. They were scared they'd go to hell for looking for the truth. But they never put forward any good explanations why a good and just God would kill off so many of their own creations – why he would kill off millions of species of primitive lizards, birds, mammals and fish, for no foreseeable gains?

And so came the Great Separation. The Econian's who wanted to continue studying this planet, no matter what the consequences, were placed in the earth, the sea, the air and the rocks. We numbered around four hundred in total. The rest left for their homes in the separate dimensions.

Years later, I was called by the Precursors themselves. They said they had a job for me. I am not sure how, but the man you know as Baron Praxis had manage to extract one of us from our self-imposed prisons. This was the one you know as Dark Jak, but his real name is Chainid, or Will in your tongue. I believe he was earth-bound, so the best explanation would be that he was locked in a gem or some other trinket and was passed on to the vile man. Praxis inserted Will into Jak's mind, in the hope that the Will's cunning and 'mystic' power would combine with the young mans channelling abilities, to form the prefect warrior. However. Something fundamental snapped inside Will's mind. So, instead the Baron got a powerful, vengeful youth instead. Needless to say this wasn't what he had in mind. It wasn't what the Precursors had hoped for either evidently, who wanted something to fight the invasion of the Dark Makers. So I was given to Jak, to try and get him through the fight ahead.

The mental carnage was terrible. The two had been constantly fighting for control, raging against the other, in a desperate struggle to survive. You see, Praxis' 'operations' were clumsy and brutal, and only one mind could live – if they attempted co-existence they would both slowly perish. It probably didn't help that both were in possession of violent rages, and ever so slightly unhinged. And while they fought, the violence and madness grew and consumed them both. I managed to save Jak, but only by separating him from his Darker Half. Will was beyond my help. He hates fate, Precursors and Econians for putting him on earth. He hates elf-kind for what it had done to him. He hates metal heads for attacking, thereby prompting the Baron to start his twisted experiments. He is hate.

And now, he is free. A man with Dark skin and white hair has let us both loose, and recently I found Will attacking Torn. He is dangerous."

She looked up at the ceiling, eyes shut. "I've saved as many as I can. Kill him."

Somewhere in the vast, vast desert, sat Trigger. She had stolen a dune buggy, named the Dune Hopper, and made her escape effectively. With her teeth he wrestled out the cork of her water bottle, spiting it down between her feet and watching it roll down the hill. Before it tumbled to the bottom, she trapped it with her foot and pulled it back into her hand with the flat of her heel absently.

"**TRIANNA BRIGHTBURN. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? WHY ARE YOU NOT IN SPARAGUS?" **Bellowed the Head Oracle in her mind. This was the Oracle that mastered over all others. This telepathic Precursor super computer was the strongest of the 134 placed on the earth. It was known as The Order. Trianna winced at her title.

"My Lord I-"

"**WHY HAVE YOU LEFT THE OTHER ECO WEILDERS TO FACE THEIR TRIALS ALONE?"**

"Aint my fight. Besides, Iah've always fought alone, and picked my battles. Why should Iah fight with them, guys I aint got no knowledge or respect for?" she said quickly, defensivly. But there was no hint at any embaressment at what she'd done/

"**PERHAPS WE WERE WRONG TO GIVE OUR POWERS TO A MERE _WOMAN. _WE MISTAKENLY THOUGHT THAT YOU WOULD HAVE THE COMPASSION NEEDED."**

"I aint no woman, oracle. Any women die in the desert heat. Ih'm a wastelander. Besides, if you were looking for a womanly sage, ya need to think about you're meathods. Iah got where I was by being like a man – the elders shunned anyone femeine, male or female. Ih fought blade and barrel fer this honour – but ta die for it, without a successor, is stupid.

"**YOU BELIVE OUR PLANS FOLLY!" **Roared the oracle, enraged.

"Ih think they're risky. Too risky. We dun't even know if that cocky little shi-"

"**DO NOT USE SUCH VULGARITIY IN MY PRESENCE, SAGE, AND HAVE SOME REVERENCE FOR THE YOUNG PRINCE!"**

"Prince? Oracle, he aint no prince. He's jus'ta kid, and I'll be damned if I give him _mah _powers without him proving himself."

"**HE SAVED THE WORLD."**

"But he's never foug't Heaven an' Hell. Yeht."

"**SO YOU ADMIT THAT HE IS UP TO FIGHTING INTHIS WAR?"**

"Sure. Just not that he's up to _winning._"

"**BLASHPEMY!"**

"If it's blasphemy ta speak my mind, then 'Ih'm guilty." She retorted sharply, glaring at the statue. "Give me a task, my lord, n Ih'll do it, but tell me what ya want from me."

"**DO YOU KNOW WHAT IS AT STAKE?"**

"Tha whole world, Oracle. That's why Ih want to be sure whut Ih'ma doin."

"**YOU MUST LEAVE FOR HAVEN IMMEADIATLY!" **The bronze monstrosity yelled.

"Ih'ma not doin' nothin' 'till you tell me whut's goin' on." She replied calmly.

"**I CANNOT BREAK THE RULES THE PRECURSORS LAID DOWN FOR ME, TRIANNA, YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THAT. I AM A MACHINE, BOUND BY THEIR LAWS. ALL I CAN TELL YOU IS THAT YOU MUST LEAVE."**

It was then that a whole mountain of sand cascaded over her face. Hawking and spitting, she pawed the sand out of her eyes, looking upwards. The sun hovered high in the sky, behind the figure that had appeared at the top of the dune. The sun was behind it, a purplish, blocky, humanoid figure, and in front of it, bouncing off the thing and directly into her eyes. Trigger struggled upright, flicking out her gun. The safety was off, and its barrel was loaded, ready to fire.

"**RUN!" **Commanded the machine.

Trigger wrenched back the gun's trigger, sending sniper shots into the dune above her, running backwards as she did. Sand spouted from the holes, and then the dune-face gave way, causing the thing to fall, whacking into the ground chest-first. The sand followed, swallowing it up in mounds of suffocating sand. A pyramid raised tself from the below, causing sand to waterfall off it until it was revealed as a face. A face made from crystal, an encasement of a blackened skull inside. It raised its head to see the Yellow Sage bolting for her truck. It gave chase, rising from a sprinters crouch smoothly, fanning puffs of sand into the air as it skimmed towards its prey. Trigger was finding it harder. Her body was designed for the desert, being of Maurderer decent, but she couldn't stop her feet sinking into the sand, or feeling exhausted as she tried to find solid footing on the ground. She was almost within reaching distance of her getaway car when the being landed on the bonnet, crushing it effectively. Trigger noticed the balls and chains, fixed onto it's waist, making significant dents in the metalwork.

She looked into the featureless face, and saw how angular it was. How familiar it was. It was the guy who had been preaching to the Fanatics, back in Sparagus. Her fingers yanked on the trigger, but the bullets merely hit its shiny chest and was absorbed. She looked at his face, starting as she saw right through it, to a purple skull beneath.

Growling, she flung her hand forward in a diagonal motion. It glowed, and the monster in front of her was caught in an inferno of heat, that whipped up the sand as the hot air streamed upwards.

When the flames died back, the preacher was in a sorry state. Blackened by fire, it was glued to the ground by congealed sand that had formed a half glass, half grit substance. The macabre parody of life ripped his foot free, giving Trianna time to notice that it was a simple cone-shape, not foot like at all. Not human at all, either. The other foot was ripped forth, causing the glass grit to crack away, like ice.

It wasn't giving up easily. A point proved when the creature twisted sharply, causing one of the balls attached to his waist to fly off. Not missing a beat, she blasted it away, sending it thudding into a sand-dune, carbon scoring where her freshly drawn Morning Glory had hit it. Another three came flying at her, and she took it all in her stride, batting them away easily with buck-shot, some of it pelting there owner too.

The Preacher was just getting started. The bowling-balls that she had blasted away suddenly leapt up and charged at her, humming round her like hornets around honey. She reloaded and fired rapidly, but they were travelling faster than she was, or ever could. Near misses began to get nearer. Ball number three bowled forwards again, aiming at her face and she felt the wind ruffle her hair as it zoomed past. Desperately, she ducked under them and began running towards The Preacher. He summoned dark eco and cast to in front of him. She let it get so close she could see the swirl of oily colours reflected in the midday sun before falling flat on her face. Rolling to one side, two of the balls pounded where she had been lying previously. But ball number three was hit by Gol's blast, and shattered - but the shards flew into her gut like a hail of arrows. Even with the weapon broken into pieces, the Preacher was still in total control of it.

"**I'M SORRY, TRIANNA. I TRIED." **The Oracle boomed sadly. But she was already dead.


	12. Double Edged Blessings

_**Chapter 12**_

_**Mass carnage and violence here. Mass…lots of it. Oh and death. Lot's of death as well YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**_

**_Lawyers, haven't done this in the while, but to make this legal…Probably the most expensive thing I own is my new guitar ,or my old Mp3 player. So I don't own a massive gaming franchise such as Naughty-dog, or the video game Jak and Daxter. I never said I did, okay? Just to make sure and all._**

In Sparagus, other sages were fighting for their lives, but with more success. A crazed elf flung himself at Jak, flingers seeking his throat hungrily. Jak grabbed the mans shoulder and spun him easily, using the mans momentum to slam him into a wall. Blood arced into the air, and he grasped it with blue eco and hurled it and another attackers face. She slowed down, for a split second, hands reaching towards her eyes, trying to scrub it out, long enough for Jak to raise his gun and shoot her in the heart. Behind him, a middle-aged Wastelander screamed as Jak's Croca-dog sunk her foot long fangs into his thigh, ripping out a chunk of flesh. Blood ringed her mouth and she struck again, his time at his throat, clawing at his chest as she did so. A bolt of eco scraped over her tough muzzle scales, drawing blood, and she swung round her head and charged, spittle foaming from her jaws. He new attacker's end was quick, as she crushed his throat underneath her large, clawed paws.

A movement in Jak's perpetual vision cased him two swing his gun to his left. _Bang_. Smoke wafted from the barrel, she died, and the escapees kept on running. For a second, it wasn't Jak Mar leading, it was the renegade, who would stop at nothing to _survive_. It was Jak the Wastelander, with his diminutive, non-threatening height, taking pot shots at Metalheads. He was a mercenary, offering his services in exchange for his life.

It proved that Jak of Sandover was dead, no matter how eloquently Seem paraphrased his hand signals.

A volley of gunfire raged back and forth between the two parties, each throwing morals and fair play to the wind in the desperate bid to win. Jak raised his eyes to the right to see two women snipers, wearing identical armour and clothes blasting at each other with yellow eco. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they knew each other somehow. Family member? Thought Jak with callous disregard for life, as he swatted a group of attackers away with a blast of eco and the wave of searing hot air that followed. Friend? He asked himself as his fists thudded again into soft elfin tissue.

He gave a set of hand signals, recognisable to any Wastelander, the whole group, which numbered around forty, dived into an ally. Ten of his party quickly and easily scaled the walls and ran doubled-over on the rooftops, sniping at the groups harassers. The ones at ground level simply pegged it through the dingy backstreets.

Going into dark, cramped alleys may sound like a bad thing to do, but it sure beat running around without cover. The more organised escapee's would have better chance at surviving in smaller areas, where they couldn't be overwhelmed by sheer numbers Jak reasoned, hoping that all of the crazed elves were behind them.

Suddenly the enclosed space widened out, and in front of them laid the abandoned fleet of transporters, covered in desert dust. His company broke out into a dead sprint at the sight, speeding towards their only hope of escape. Behind them, the brainwashed Wastelanders roared in fury. The sentries up top yelled warnings, before leaping down to the ground, and following the rest as the mob strove to encircle them, coming round the both sides of the buildings. Jak, Seem and Kliever shot out into the harsh dawn sunlight first, being the ones leading, and pounded ahead. It was a good 300 meters, 300 meters that was spent ducking and diving as the mob behind sniping at them. However, blinded by rage, the mob never stopped running, making their shots miss their intended mark.

But as the intended mark was in a large tight group, the bullets usually burnt a hole in the elf next to the target. Instinctively, now that the mob was trying to shoot them in the open air, Jak's group spread out. Some slowed down to help the wounded. They were shot. The others, seasoned Wastelanders, didn't look back, not even sparing prayers for those behind. They wouldn't feel guilty later – it was survival. No-one had any illusions other wise. Fifty paces away from the transporters, Keliver held up a metal object and unlocked the doors of the five blood-red hovercraft. The boarding ramp hissed into position, flopping onto the desert floor. The escapees sped up even more, gasping for air. Behind them spilled small groups of Gol's minions, each determined to stop the renegades at all costs. But Jak's people got there first, piling into the vehicles haphazardly. Whilst the five designated drivers – Kleiver and four other Wastelanders scrambled into their cabins, Jak directed the flow of Wastelanders into each vehicle, to make sure that no one was crushed in the mad bid to escape.

It was then when the first volleys of eco-shots flew towards them, distorting the air as they passed through it. With a quick gesture, Jak concentrated his last reserves of eco onto one hand and thrust forwards with his palm, sending the air rushing back, pulling the air bourn attacks, causing them to skitter away.

It slammed into one group of Wastelanders, jus above their knee-caps, bringing them down hard. Cursing, they tried to stand up, only to have another group run straight over them, in a mad bid to win favour with their King and Queen, Gol and Maia. They were un-aware, of course that their rulers and been usurped and destroyed by the vain goddess Artemis. With the last Wastelander inside the vehicle, Jak thumped on the side of the Hover three times _–tunt-tunt-tunt_, and clambered inside. With a hiss, the hover-ware underneath the transporter glowed blue, and lifted the metal box into the air, and into freedom. Screaming profanities, the mob below levelled their weapons and tried to shoot the sucker down. With armour plating similar to a tank, the eco-shots did nothing but make the lift-off uncomfortably juddery for the passengers.

Behind the fleet, three more sets of military hovers rose into the sky, and shot off in the direction of Haven city.

Five hours later, with the Hover craft limped into Haven city, some beginning to smoke underneath. The pilots had pushed the planes hard, and what only a select Waste Landers knew was that half of the hovers had been docked for repair.

Over the radio, Sig described what had happened to his gang. They had arrived, after a hellish chase through the trashed city, to where the Hovers rested, only to find "The damn main thrusters had been removed". The thrusters, Jak learnt, were important to get the heavy metal vehicles into the air, before the smaller thrusters, arranged round the outside in a circle could push it through the air. He and his group were still staring in despair when the young blue Sage, leading his own party, had arrived. Bolton hurriedly explained how his fleet had been taken apart by scrap dealers. There was no way in hell the things were going to fly, unless you tried throwing some of the nuts and bolts. So, Bolton joined up with the only other group he could reach. Bolton's party was small, a mishmash of powerful Wastelanders who wouldn't mind being bossed around – as the Blue Sage didn't exactly give off a commanding air. The upside of this meant that there was enough room in the transporters for the few extra newcomers. The downside of this was that they still couldn't get them in the air so they could fly. Sig in desperation, had come up with a plan, and forced Bolton to play his part in it. Being the Sage of blue eco, Bolton would lift the vehicles into the air, until they were high enough to use the smaller, secondary thrusters. Then he could lift himself up, and into one of them. He managed to lift the first six into the air, but them he was shot, in the back. Killing him instantly. His death sealed the fate of those in the last transporter to be lifted. The mob engulfed it, and the last Sig saw, was the men and women being dragged out.

Feeling depressed, Jak got up. The casualties were high, a third of the escapee's had died during the fight or the long flight. The blond man stepped out into the deserted streets.

The dead silence that echoed around the land hit him like a grenade blast, harder than the sudden death of Bolton ever could. Jak and all of the Wastelanders were practically immune to death and destruction. But Haven city, scarred by explosions, and heavily cratered, without the roar of zoomers, and the human bustle was un-nerving.

A sheet of plastic crinkled in the wind. It was the only sound that the escapees could hear, and they had all descended into a hushed, almost reverent silence.

"Arrrrk! Itzz spooky, huh?" Peaker had never been one for reverence. He poked his crested head out of the third transporters' door

"Jak, Onin is calling you for assistance, she says that it izz urgent. Oh, and she says that the rat says hi." He added as an afterthought, flapping into the air. Jak spotted Sig sliding off the ramp to the Hover, and told Seem to give control to the large man. Onin's prophecies were usually long and cryptic, even though sometimes they didn't contain the answer the speaker wanted.

So it was best to go alone, or bring a deck of cards. (Jak preferring the former, Daxter the latter).

As Jak followed the Monkaw through the burnt-out city, he realised the full extent of the damage. The word 'Surge' was a term he'd grown to dread as a young Eco-Mage in Sandover, a word that was equal to the word 'torture' in Haven. But in Sandover, the little village that relied on a few sparks of eco to keep the village going, no-one had taught him what a Surge would have done to a fully mechanised city. No-one knew, because the idea of a city that used Eco daily and on such a humongous scale was incomprehensible. The description 'stuff explodes' didn't begin to explain the burnt out wreck that was left afterwards, the stink of charcoal, and smoke, damp streets and raw sewage, that wafted around or the half curled, blackened hand that Jak spotted peaking out of the rubble.

"Onin sez that this part of the city is yet to be cleared." Peaker said, breaking the silence between them. Jak nodded, and kept his gaze steady. It wasn't often that he saw such widespread destruction.

Soon, but not soon enough, Jak found himself walking into a soot stained marquee. He wasn't sure what part of the city he was in anymore, everything was so different, and he had been away for a while. It was scary, he had thought that he would always recognise his city (and it may, Jak reflected really be His City, if Damas really was his father), but now for the first time in his life he had drawn a total blank. Even when he had escaped from the prison he had a rough idea where to go.

Onin wasn't the only one in the tent. People, refugee's, were everywhere, lying with their belongings piled around them, packets of water and food pressed against their chests to guard the precious substance. Conversation was stunted, but each phrase carried a sense of terror – stabbings at the communal toilets, women being raped after dark, muggings, looting, and the complete break-down of society.

Jak spotted Onin's shadow behind a thin flag of muslin cloth, portioning off perhaps one or two meters of ground especially for her. There was a queue of people waiting from that, people were peering round each other anxiously, to find an answer. Without laws or officials, Seer's had become leaders over night, although most of these were quacks who couldn't believe their luck.

Jak, in his typical fashion, simply marched past the queue, ignoring their squeals of outrage. He ripped open the cloth door, and allowed the man inside a second to leave the room. When he didn't, Jak hoisted him up by the scruff of his neck and threw him outside, enjoying the dull thump his butt made as it hit the ground.

"Onin sez that you have come to her side in this time of great turmoil, and she thanks you."

_-What do you want me to do now? -_ signed Jak irritably.

"Onin sez that…she wants you… No! You can't be serious! You've still got plenty of life left in you! Don't say that!"

_-What? - _ Jak signed, waggling his finger in the air.

"Onin wants _you _to take her light-eco powers." Translated the monkaw stiffly, eyes widening.

The old hag tilted her head, causing the avian to scrabble for purchase on the large bowl. Jak had the distinct impression that she was looking at him with an appraising eye, even though the cloudy cataracts shielded them from view. Jak in turn, looked back. She was old, he realised. He wasn't sure why he had never thought that before, but it could have been because she was a constant source of power to Jak, a being that constantly emitted light energies. Perhaps he saw her like a child sees it's parent. Old, but not _old, _not near to death old. She raised a hand, clawed with age (why hadn't he noticed that before?) and caused a firework of light to shoot up her the monkaw's face.

Waving him on, forcing him to continue.

Peaker rubbed his purple wings together, eyes shining blue in Onin's azure magic. "She sez that her magic is no longer powerful enough to guide the people. She says that she iz too old." He said, seriously. It didn't suit him. "She will give you her powers. She sez that it is already fortold, and you must accept. She wantz you to find the answers – but she cannot tell you the question. Otherwise history will change. But she…she…" The Monkaw broke off, unable to say what he wanted. Onin's eyes widened, in what Jak, if he hadn't known better, would have called panic.

Onin looked him in the eye. Then, quite deliberately, she signed perfectly in SSL. – _Sorry, Jak. You don't have a choice.-_ and lurched forward, grabbing his arm with her clawed hands, a deliberately clawed to hide the tiny blade in her possession and slashing him across his with a razorblade, cutting herself with the sharp edge at the same time. It happened so fast – so unexpectedly, that the blonde man grabbed her as he keeled over, giving her time to press the two bloody palms together, to form a blood bond.

Jak held the woman in his arms, and then lifted her to put her back in her place.

She wasn't breathing.

"She needs her powers to live." Finished the primate in a terrified whisper.

His left hand felt like someone had dunked the wound in a bucket of ice. It wasn't unpleasant because it took the sting away. But his hand was numb. He pulled his hand away and looked at it, seeing the permanent white claw-scars under his fingernail and the fast congealing blood. He clenched his hand, pulling his fingers along the new puckered crease in his hand. He didn't have to look to see that the scar was tinted sky blue.

Ramen marched in, before she could stall any longer. The room was small, with cream paint flaking off the walls in large chunks. In gold leaf flowing hieroglyphics' were written, and were still resisting the tests of time. Even if Ramen could read them, she wouldn't have bothered to spare them more than a glance; she was too busy looking for the Scrolls she had come for. Although she hadn't expected them to be placed on a glowing plinth, she had thought that the precursors wouldn't have purposely hidden them. The room was completely bare, just a square box. Stubbornly, Ramen walked round the walls, trailing her arm through the walls, but all she could feel was plaster, wall-paper and stonework. She made another lap of the room, in a crouch, and discovered something. The wall at knee height felt different, and with a little concentration, and delicate probing, she discovered why. The precursors had painted below the hieroglyphics', instead of using wall paper. She checked to the top of the hieroglyphics', and found that was paint too.

She looked closer. Then followed the unbroken symbols all around the room, laughing. The precursors had embedded the scroll in the wall of the room, leaving it hidden in plain sight. With utmost care, Mrs. Damas Mar peeled off the delicate work, rolling it up as he went along, and praying silently that she didn't damage it too much. The last loops of paper had just been coiled up, when the first explosion rocked the temple.

Tearing back the way she came, she saw that the cannons mounted on the wall were frozen in place, rigidly staring down their fixed sights. Something had cut the power to the temple. She sided to a halt as the door in front of her dented inwards, bending back as _something _smacked into the other side. The ghost backed away, looking for a way to escape, but to no avail. The door was the only way she could get out of the way with the scrolls.

_-DUNT-_ the heavy something added another dent to the door. Ramen braced herself wrapping her see-through arms around the precious paper, even though she knew it would do very little.

There was a period of prolonged silence and then a thundering peal of foot falls, and a resounding crash, as the whole door gave under the animals repeated attacks. It was a beautiful beast, made of glassy purple crystal, with a yellow stubby glowing horn in the middle of the forehead. It resembled a primitive glass rhino, but more light and graceful. It took one look at her, and charged. Ramen flung out her arm, with the scroll in it, and let the rhino run straight through her. It skidded to a halt, and before the look of confusion had passed from its face, Ramen had already fled the temple corridors, jumping up the oracle and flinging herself out of a high window, to the ground below. Hitting the ground, she sunk up to her waist into the sand but kept on running.

The Crystal-Skull continued his path of destruction, doing as his master ordered, until it reached the central processing unit inside the giant super-computer, The Order Oracle. With a single toss of its head, it rammed through the delicate technology, shutting it down. Across the globe, the joint effort of the Oracles was thrown into disarray, and the electrical and magnetic energy that they had previously shared died, and with it, all the life and machines it supported.

The floating platforms tumbled down into abysses. Haven's shield wall cracked and shattered.

Ramen winked out of existence. She had been held on earth after her death by the massive ancient machines, and now that they were gone, so was she.

The scroll containing the three precious prophecies rolled down the dune she had been scrambling over, and rested in a shaded dip. Within a few hours, it was buried by the shifting sands.


End file.
